Polyjuice Lust
by purplerawr
Summary: Since saving his life during the battle, Harry has invaded Draco's every thought for three years. Sometimes he can't resist and uses his potions skills in less than moral ways. Then Harry is back in his life, but so is Seamus Finnegan, unfortunately...
1. An Unexpected Turn For A Bad Day

**Chapter 1 – An Unexpected Turn for a Bad Day**

Seamus Finnegan, Hogwarts graduate, employee of the Department of International Magical Cooperation in the Ministry of Magic, was taking his usual route from the Ministry to his London flat. He was feeling very tired and despondent, having spent the entire day arguing with two Indian wizards who felt that travelling via magic carpet over Muggle England was an acceptable thing to do. It didn't help that his Bengali was not very good (he knew the wizards could speak English but they were refusing to just to complicate things) and all the other people in his department, even Rodney Pews who could speak perfect Bengali, were horrendously busy trying to regain an even footing with the Embassy of Magic in South America after an accident involving a Scottish Wizard and several Brazilian Muggles having their memories erased...

He was trudging along the alleyway that served as a short cut from one long street to another, his breaths leaving him as wispy grey clouds travelling through the cold winter air and his only companions the twinkling stars just visible in the smoky, dirty London sky. At least he thought that.

A hand grabbed the front of his cloak and pulled him to the wall, at the same time saying "_Expelliarmus_" under their breath. Seamus thought the voice was male, but he couldn't be sure because his unknown captor had been so quiet. He tried to turn around, caught under a strong grip on his arms, and soon gave up. Whoever it was, they had him at their will now.

"Do you want me?" The voice whispered in Seamus' ear, and he couldn't help but shiver at the warm, enticing breath on his neck. He also couldn't help the wave of attraction that moved in his body, mostly around his lower stomach and, well...

"I don't even know what you look like." Seamus argued, not denying that the question was appealing to him. He had had such an awful day, the idea of spontaneous sex was extremely appealing... especially if they were male, Seamus preferred men...

"You'll be shocked if you see me, you'll say no without thinking about it." The voice replied, still low and breathy, warm air caressing one side of Seamus' face.

"Why, do you think you're ugly?" Seamus asked and the voice laughed silkily, still soft and low.

"I don't think I'm ugly, it isn't that. I will describe myself to you." The voice offered, the arms holding him loosening slightly but the grip the unknown person had on Seamus' curiosity not lessening in the slightest.

"Go ahead, you've got me interested now." Seamus admitted. So they weren't ugly either...

"I have pale skin, paler than the average person, and cloudy grey eyes. I have light blonde hair, quite long and tousled. I am slightly taller than you, and of a lighter build. You would find me more beautiful than handsome." The voice held didn't hold back from highlighting the good things about its owner and Seamus was truly interested now. The person, if telling the truth, sounded just his type. Beautiful boys had always been his type, even back when he was at school.

"I like the sound of that." Seamus stated, his voice also quiet and breathy now due to lust and his own imagination running away with him. "But how do I know I can trust you're telling the truth?"

"Take me to your place, Apparate there with me. Then you'll be safe in your home." The voice replied, sounding more lustily urgent with each passing word. The urgency was infectious, and Seamus found himself wanting to Apparate to his apartment there and then.

"Okay, I will, but only if I can see you." Seamus said, adamant to see the mysterious captor of his curiosity.

"Okay," the voice submitted, and let go of Seamus. Seamus turned around wildly, and got what he was promised. Indeed the voice did belong to a blonde, pale, grey-eyed, beautiful young man, but that man was no other than Draco Malfoy.

All he could do at first was gasp.

"Malfoy?" He asked, dumbstruck, and the young man nodded, holding out Seamus' wand. Seamus took the wand and pocketed it, still finding himself wanting the other man no matter who he was, his longing taking over his mind.

"Do you still want me?" Draco asked quietly, taking a step forward, and Seamus nodded, not needing words to get across what he wanted. Draco smiled lightly, a truly beautiful sight, and Seamus felt slightly dazed, looking at him up this close.

"Good," the blonde said and took Seamus' arm, "Take me where you want to."

Seamus Apparated to his apartment without another word. His day had just taken a turn for the better.

Arriving at Seamus' small, comfy apartment, Draco looked around.

"Nice place." He commented and Seamus merely shrugged.

"All that my wages and no more parental support can buy." He replied, looking around the place nervously. He was sure Draco's place must be a mansion compared to his cramped apartment. Draco said nothing more on the subject, instead walking straight through to what happened to be Seamus' bedroom.

Seamus followed him, his excitement and desire sparking up again. Draco sure was forward!

He found Draco on his bed, sprawled across the spacious double as if he owned it. Seamus could not help but feel a need to jump on the other man straightaway, but then remembered his manners.

"Would you like anything to drink?" He asked and Draco declined.

"Are you sure you still want me?" He asked, silver eyes staring expectantly, and Seamus nodded fervently. Draco tilted his head to one side, a small smile bestowing his lips.

"Well, you're going to have to do me a small favour first." He said, looking up Seamus through sultry eyes and circling the bed covers with one finger. Seamus felt as if trapped under a spell of his own growing lust and desire, and he couldn't help but agree with whatever that favour would be without even questioning it.

Draco's smile grew even wider, and from his robes he procured a small vial of a bright gold potion. It reminded Seamus of the gold threaded into the Griffindor banner in the Great Hall at Hogwarts.

"The favour is that you take this Polyjuice Potion for me." Draco said, all pretences dropped, his voice now serious and not just a bit demanding. Seamus didn't care and he agreed, not even asking who he would turn into. As long as he could just touch Draco, he didn't care.

On being passed the vial of gold, he drank it down in one big gulp. The potion tasted strange but not unpleasant, a mixture of cinnamon and chocolate with something else, metallic tasting, that he could not place. Then he felt himself changing, his hair growing longer and more unruly, his arms and legs extending an inch or two, his build becoming a bit slimmer and his vision becoming very blurry.

"Draco... I can't see..." Seamus said, bewildered and trying to look around clearly.

"It doesn't matter," he heard Draco's voice coming from the direction of the bed, "You can still touch me, taste me, hear me moan, it doesn't matter if you can't see me..."

Seamus could see his point, and moved over quite blindly to the bed and Draco's blurred form. He imagined the beauty that he had seen earlier, Draco looking a lot less pointed and boyish than he had during their school years, and that was all it took.

Draco helped him, taking his hands and wrapping them around his own body. Then he began undressing Seamus, his desperation and urgency now even more pronounced than before. Seamus let him take the lead, letting Draco do whatever he wanted.

Shortly after, when both boys were satisfactorily undressed and both sprawled across the bed, a question occurred to Seamus.

"Top or bottom?"

"I'm on top," Draco said without hesitation, "I'm always on top."

The old Malfoy arrogance, Seamus thought with a small chuckle. Right now, with Draco naked and wanting him, he didn't care how much he was ordered around, not to mention that he would be quite useless on top with his poor eyesight.

Seamus used his hands to explore Draco's body, mapping out each part of Draco by touch because his eyes were of no use, and then he heard Draco moan lightly, mumbling a name that wasn't his that he didn't catch, but he didn't care. He didn't look like himself anyway, whoever he was; this was probably just some fantasy of Draco's. This still aroused him, a certain part of him in particular, and he lay down on the bed, ready to be taken into ecstasy.

It seemed that Draco was on the same wavelength, because Seamus heard his now straining voice mutter a _Lubricus _spell (one which Seamus had used a few times himself – he was no virgin) and then he was being straddled.

"Are you ready?" Draco half-whispered, half-moaned and Seamus voiced a strangled yes in reply, not caring how he looked or sounded. Bad eyesight did have its advantages in the matter of embarrassment and nervousness.

Draco then plunged in, eliciting a loud moan from both of them, and they were connected in a way that only sex could create. Draco moved slowly and carefully, not wanting to hurt Seamus (or more accurately the person he was masquerading as) and Seamus came first, sent over the brink by Draco's gentleness, something that he had rarely encountered before in sex (not to mention that usually he topped...) Draco came soon after, with a strangled shout of somebody else's name.

"Harry-!"

Seamus made no comment, though something in him felt desperately awful and guilty on hearing the name. For one, it was never nice to hear your partner shout somebody else's name during sex, even in these circumstances, and secondly, he didn't like the sound of whose name it had been. Was it really the Harry he was thinking of that Draco had shouted in such bliss?

Draco pulled out of him, landing on the bed in a heap by the sounds of it. He lay there for only a few seconds, out of breath, before getting up and Seamus heard the sounds of clothes being picked up off the floor.

"You're leaving?" Seamus asked, trying not to sound disappointed. He would have liked to have the Adonis in his bed for a little while longer.

"Yes," Draco said frankly, "I'm can't stay."

Another minute passed and Draco was fully clothed, by the blurry looks of him through Seamus' fake eyes. He heard Draco sigh, a saddening, hollow sound.

"The effects of the potion should wear out in about twenty minutes, there won't be any side effects – I brewed it perfectly." Seamus couldn't mistake the sound of pride in Draco's voice at his last words; he was a Potions master after all, at Hogwarts itself Seamus recalled.

With that, and the small popping sound Disapparation produces, Draco had gone, leaving a half-blind Seamus still resting on the bed in a different body to his own, basking in a post-coital happiness. Today has definitely not been wasted, he thought to himself with a surge of sated delight.

After a few minutes of simply laying there, he got up and went into the bathroom. After having a quick shower, still in somebody else's body, he waited for the final two minutes in front of the mirror, hoping with a growing apprehension to get a look at who he was pretending to be for Draco.

He began to feel himself change back into himself, vision returning first. He gazed at Harry Potter for mere seconds before the image was replaced with one of Seamus Finnegan.

"So it was Harry..." He whispered, now knowing for sure that the Harry in question was his childhood friend. Why was Draco so interested in Harry who, as far as Seamus knew, had always been an enemy at school?

Why was it Harry who could make Draco call out in such pure, divine ecstasy and not Seamus? He went to sleep that night with a resentment growing steadily in his stomach... why Harry and not him...?

* * *

A/N: November 15th 09

This is a republished Chapter 1, slightly edited to make it more accurate ^^. I still hate this pairing D: I find myself insane for even attempting them, but still, helps the plot along... you'll just have to find out what happens for yourselves :)


	2. From Potions Master to Potions Tester

Chapter 2 – From Potions Master to Poisons Tester

Draco Malfoy had always thought he would be a Potions Master. He was a dab hand at the subject, even in his first year, and Potions had always been his favourite lesson. It had just made sense, all those years, that he would follow in the footsteps of Snape, Slughorn, and those before them, and become Hogwarts Potions Master.

It had all fitted at the time; he loved potions, he loved Hogwarts and he even had a liking for teaching (probably because he liked to show off his skills and knowledge to the students, being forever a Malfoy, just not as ignorant and prejudiced as he used to be before the Battle.)

However, it didn't fit him now. Hogwarts was still the school he had loved whilst a student there, he got on with all the other teachers (even Hagrid, still Care of Magical Creatures professor), he got along with the students as best a teacher could, he was paid well, and even had his own spacious rooms within the castle.

But something was missing at the school now that had been there during his school-days. More specifically, someone: Harry Potter, the boy and now man who he had been in love with for a fair few years, not that he liked to think how long it had been.

Oh yes, he had started off hating him, after Harry had refused to shake his hand in first year, but he knew now that it had all come from jealousy and pettiness. He had fought constantly with Harry and his friends out of rage he didn't want to have to feel towards himself, for blindly following his father, letting himself agree to being a Death Eater even if he hated the idea and letting himself be ordered around. Potter was protected by good people, had friends he could trust and Draco was jealous of that, always had been though he would have been pained to admit it.

Then, when Harry had saved Draco's life on the fated night of the battle, Draco had realized that it wasn't only jealousy that had drawn him to relentlessly trying to annoy and anger the other boy. He had always been vying for Harry's attention, wanting to be noticed by him. Then Harry had saved his life twice unthinkingly, even though he really had no reason too, and on that night something inside Draco had inexplicably changed, and the attention seeking, jealousy and obsession with Harry that he had always carried had moulded itself into something else.

Love.

Hardly anyone had shown him such compassion before, holding him and protecting him, as Harry had that night. And that night he made a choice; he chose to support Harry and not Voldemort (although really, before that, he had personally been quite neutral to sides, given the conflict of what his father wanted him to believe and his being afraid to commit to either side out of a will of self-preservation.)

He wanted Harry to live, for his life was as precious as Draco's and Harry had saved Draco's life himself. Draco made his choice very late on, he knew, but he felt he had made the right one finally and rejoiced with the others at the end of the battle, Harry still being very much alive. He had to stop himself from running up and embracing the other boy, which wasn't hard because he had been so surrounded by other people already. Draco had walked away quietly, wanting Harry to live on happily without him (how could he have made Harry happy after years of trying to do the opposite? It was best that he left Harry's life, even loving Harry as much as he did from that night on.)

Harry was what was missing from the school, and the ancient school felt like an empty shell without him there. That was why he took the opportunity when a ministry worker, at some event or something Draco had been invited to, mentioned that Richard Belby, the Ministry's Tester for Dangerous Poisons, was retiring. That was definitely a job that Draco could do, being fully qualified in testing for Poisons as a part of his Potions degree, and he applied.

Today he received his letter that told him he had been accepted for the position, so handed in his final notice of resignation to the school. McGonagall seemed a bit sad to see him go, though she did not show it (she was probably just annoyed at the prospect of finding a new Potions teacher before the end of the Easter Holidays...)

He would start his job at the start of the new week (only three days away!) and was very excited about the prospect of working at the Ministry. He had been doubting whether he would be accepted for the position or not, given his past, but he had been acquitted from all charges against him given the overwhelming evidence that he had been ordered to do the unspeakable deeds through blackmail and threat, and that he had not properly supported the Dark Lord at all during his second rise in power.

He remembered Harry at his trial about the death of Dumbledore, explaining the story and how Draco had been innocent of murder, and he could not help but smile remembering Harry defending him so passionately. So he had saved Draco's life and given evidence at trials so that Draco didn't have to spend any time in Azkaban – he owed Harry Potter a lot, but this did not bother him. He'd rather owe his life to Harry Potter than anybody else in the entire world.

He left the school grounds with no regrets, having packed up his stuff and sent it on to his apartment, which luckily was not far from the Ministry itself, meaning that he could walk there if he so wanted to (he didn't always like to Apparate everywhere, walking was a much more peaceful option.) He knew he would be much happier at his Ministry job – Harry did work in the Ministry, after all, and just seeing him would be enough, for they would both be working in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Harry as an Auror and he as Head of the Identification of Poisons and Dark Potions office (which consisted of Draco and two other people, who he hadn't met as of yet.)

He walked into Hogsmeade and then Apparated with a growing sense of excitement; he had turned over so many new leaves since the battle, who knew, perhaps now he was a good enough to approach the one person who meant so much to him?

That he would find out with his new job.

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know, that was rather short. Do what you will with me for torturous punishment. This was more of a reflective, background chapter, it does get more exciting! (I think.) Oh, and sorry for OOCness or unbelievable things, that's just my style when it comes to Drarry :D


	3. New Job, Old Faces

Chapter 3 – A New Job, Old Faces and a Fast Beating Heart.

It was Draco's first day on the job and he was at the front desk, having his wand weighed and tested by the grumpy wizard he remembered well from his visits to the Ministry he made infrequently as a child to see his father there. He just hoped that he could perform his job much more honestly than his father had ever done, but he reprimanded himself; he was nothing like his father now. He was alive and his father was dead, having rotted away in Azkaban for his bad choices in life. Draco was making the right choices now, mostly. He did rather regret the incident with Seamus Finnegan a week earlier, he would be working at the ministry too...

Pushing all Finnegan related doubts out of his mind (He was quite sure, from what he could remember, that Finnegan hadn't found out who he had turned into thanks to the Polyjuice potion) he retrieved his wand and strode over to one of the lifts. He bumped into someone else walking in the same direction, and both he and the other person muttered apologies. Then the other person gasped.

"Malfoy!" The voice belonged to none other than Ron Weasley, who Draco had not see nor heard from since the night of the battle. Memories of him fighting determinedly alongside Harry filled his mind and almost made Draco reel. Weasley caught his arm, but then immediately let go when it seemed that Draco was not about to fall over.

"What the heck are you doing here?" He didn't sound angry as such, only confused and slightly guarded (old grudges die hard, Draco thought to himself. He still felt ill inclined to the other man after many years, himself.)

"I work here now." Draco replied, sounding haughty despite his best efforts to be civil.

"Okay..." Weasley said, clearly trying to think of something to say that wasn't an insult. Draco would have laughed if he wasn't keeping control of himself.

The lift opened and they both walked in, staying as far away from each other as possible. An awkward silence stretched around them, Weasley not knowing what to do or say, so Draco decided to take pity on him and start a conversation.

"So where do you work now?" He asked, keeping his tone nonchalant and calm.

"I'm an Auror." Ron replied cautiously, still looking a bit freaked out. "And you?"

"Oh, I'm replacing Richard Belby as Head of Identification of Poisons and Dark Potions." Draco said airily and Ron nodded.

"Yeah, I remember Belby, he was a bit of a git if you ask me." Ron said with a lopsided smirk, and Draco permitted himself to laugh quietly, which seemed to relax the redhead. "In fact, none of us Aurors liked working with him, me and Harry always tried to get Hermione on our cases if we could..."

The mention of Harry's name caused Draco's heart to beat wildly, but he ignored it.

"Ah, so Granger works in my department?" Draco asked, trying to sound just as casual as before, but Weasley was immediately tense again, perhaps remembering Draco's old opinion on Hermione Granger.

"Yes, she does," he said hotly, "and don't you go giving her trouble, Malfoy-"

"I promise you that I will work with her professionally and do no such thing, Weasley," Draco cut across calmly, his words also his intention, "because I am taking this job seriously and, if I remember correctly, Granger was always an intelligent individual. I feel lucky, if anything, to have her working for me."

The other man was speechless, he had been completely not expecting such courteous towards his Hermione by Draco Malfoy of all people, but obviously Malfoy had changed since his time at school. He would have had to, Ron reasoned with himself, with the Battle and all the trials he had to give evidence. Not to mention the distrust everyone had with him for quite a while afterwards. The war changed everyone, so he must have changed too.

They spent the rest of the lift journey in a more companionable silence, Ron even wishing Draco good luck on his first day as he left for the Auror department. Draco looked at that department longingly, imagining seeing Harry there. He saw nobody but Ron though, and felt disappointed as he entered his own department. Soon he forgot his disappointment though because he was greeted by two other people in his office.

One was, as he expected, Hermione Granger, who clearly had been expecting him too (it was only natural that they were told, Draco supposed) and the other a woman who he didn't recognize.

"Astoria Greengrass." She introduced herself after Hermione, her voice quiet and serious, and she looked at Draco with much more interest than he was comfortable with. Hermione was completely different, spending most of her time scanning through thick, complicated looking tomes and studying the few bottles and vials of different coloured liquids occupying one desk in the middle of the room, set apart from the three other desks clearly meant for human habitation. Dracp supposed the empty one was his, so set down his few belongings there.

"Those are the potions we're working on right now," Astoria explained, as Hermione was busy taking notes on something, "All from different crime scenes. That one on the left," She gestured to a dark green, sinisterly bubbling liquid, "Is one that we've been taking quite a while to work out. It was made by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named himself, sources tell us, and used as a pain inducer on Death Eaters who displeased him, for when he didn't want to use the cruciatus curse."

Draco had a sudden flash of memory, remembering Voldemort giving something similar to his own father after Harry had managed to escape from Voldemort's rebirth alive during the Triwizard Tournament. It had been at the Malfoy Mansion, a week or so after, and his father had taken the potion without a fight, albeit reluctantly. He remembered the hours afterwards where his father had been sent into a delirious state of pain, screaming whilst spasms of invisible torture were sent through his body. His mother had sent him away, telling him to forget what he saw and that it was a righteous punishment, but he remembered her crying for her husband, trying to placate him.

The screaming hadn't stopped until the next morning and that was when Draco could finally fall asleep.

"What are the others?" Draco asked, trying to calm himself, and Astoria carried on explaining the five other potions, oblivious to the pained expression on his face. Hermione, annoyingly observant as she was, noticed though and he quickly re-arranged the pain into passiveness on seeing the curious worry in her eyes.

He started working on that first potion straight away, telling Astoria and Hermione to fetch certain ingredients from the vast storeroom stocked with everything they need, to find certain books and thesis papers and to set up equipment. Both, even Hermione, followed his orders without question, clearly used to this from the person who had been in charge before him.

Quite sure of the potion's components after various tests he selected the correct antidotes, a selection ranging from essence of Murtlap to powdered bicorn horn. He had deduced that there were many different herbs and plants used in the potion, giving it its dark green colour and unusually high viscosity, and also that a spell had been used on it, similar to the cruciatus curse, to create the painful effect when mixed with the other ingredients. Draco knew that he had it, knowing the effects and ingredients of the cursed liquid, and now he just had to use the various different ingredients to create the right antidote.

Astoria simply watched him in awe as he worked, hardly bothering to comprehend what he was doing, but Hermione watched the proceedings with interest, noting down his every move on their progress chart and giving her opinions on his ideas. Once or twice she even stopped him from making the wrong choice, complicated as the potion was and as nervous as Draco was on his first day.

By the end of the day, they had managed to neutralise the potion of its painful qualities and now it was practically water, only a pale green from herb and plant residue.

"Excellent!" Hermione exclaimed, looking as worn out at the end of the day as Draco felt, "I'll deliver this to the Auror's office – they were particularly interested in this potion as part of their work on various Death Eater cases."

Draco immediately perked up and picked up the file of notes himself, earning a confused look from Hermione.

"I'll take it, you look like you could go home and get some rest." He said and Hermione smiled, actually _smiled_ at him.

"Thank you, Draco, that's very kind," she said appreciatively and began to pack away all the spare ingredients that they hadn't used in neutralising the potion and creating an antidote.

Draco, trying to hide his anticipation and bubbling excitement at visiting the Auror's department, walked out of the room, leaving behind him a busy Hermione and disappointed Astoria who watched him go.

Astoria heard a small cough coming from behind her and turned around, looking a bit dazed. Hermione had a knowing look on her face.

"Some help with this please?" She asked, gesturing towards the dirty cauldrons and vials. Astoria sighed and began to _scourgify_ them all as Hermione bustled into the storeroom. The other girl was far too perceptive for Astoria's liking and she was glad that Hermione was already involved with someone, that Weasley from the Auror department, because Draco definitely seemed to get along with her. She quite liked the idea of having Draco for herself, and Hermione would only get in the way.

Draco willed himself not to run as he approached the Aurors department. He was uncertain whether to knock or walk straight in, but this question was answered for him as somebody opened the door. It was Weasley again.

"Oh, it's you," he observed with his usual lack of manners, "Had a good first day?"

"Yes, quite good, we've worked out the antidote to that pain inducing potion of Voldemort's..." he paused on the name, but Ron did not flinch, "and that took us all day, so we didn't have time for any of the others." Draco could not help but be a bit disappointed with himself; there were still five other potions left unsolved!

Ron, however, looked ecstatic.

"You've really worked that one out, in one day?! Malfoy, you're a genius!" He eagerly grabbed the notes and scanned them quickly. "Wow, so there was a curse on it... when Harry mentioned that to Belby he just rejected the idea straight away, the old codger! Harry is going to be so happy about this..." He was about to go back into the office, but turned around at the last minute.

"Aren't you going to come in? Harry'll want to thank you personally, I reckon."

Draco nodded uncertainly, being pulled out of his reverie that he and Harry had been thinking on exactly the same lines and that Ron Weasley had just called him a genius, and followed the excited red-head into an office much larger than his own. There were many more desks here, perhaps twenty or more, and all were covered in papers. On large billboards there were large "wanted" posters of the few Death Eaters still on the run and other wizarding wrong doers, what looked like strategies and general notices. Also, there were many formal looking Ministry leaflets and a timetable of who was working which days and hours. Draco made a note to look at this on his way out, not that he wanted to know when Harry was working or anything...

There were a few more Aurors dotted about the office, most he didn't recognize although he did know of John Dawlish and Kingsley Shacklebolt, now head of the Auror Department.

Sitting at one desk, right at the back of the room, was Harry, deeply immersed in the paper in front of him. Draco felt his heart leap – had it really been so long since he had seen him at the battle, fighting so fiercely, saving Draco's life, nearly ending his own? He already knew how Harry had changed physically – his confidant in procuring Harry's DNA for Draco's Polyjuice Potion stocks worked in the Ministry so found it relatively easy to get samples of hair and such for Draco to use, though they were trustingly sworn to secrecy. He did not know how he had changed as a person though, that could not be learnt through other people made to look like him...

Draco tried to stop himself from colouring in shame – what if the real Harry, the Harry sitting metres away from his now hyper-aware body, knew about this certain vice of Draco's? He had only done it three times so far, twice with wizards he did not know and then only a few days ago with Seamus Finnegan (which he regretted – however, he hadn't recognized him as an old acquaintance of Harry until it was far too late) but after each time he felt dirtier and dirtier, sullying his perfect Harry out of his own need and desire.

Weasley, whose voice was loud enough to empty the Forbidden Forest of its wildlife in a few shouts, interrupted him from his shameful thoughts. Nobody could think properly with that noisy man around, Draco thought disapprovingly. How did Harry put up with it?

"Harry, mate, they've got an antidote for that pain inducing potion!" Ron was busy exclaiming to the new Harry, who dragged his attention away from the documents scattered across his desk (evidently Harry was still as disorganized as he was at school, Draco noted with a smirk) to look up at Ron and a man he didn't recognize, at first. He looked very startled on seeing Draco, obviously having not heard about Draco's new position in the Ministry.

"The one in the..." Harry glanced at Draco, "Lucius Malfoy case?"

"Yeah, that's the one..." Ron's voice gradually lost its excitement, remembering who stood beside him. "Sorry Malfoy." He grumbled an apology and Draco shrugged.

"I'm not going to defend my father for what he did." He stated, staring at the ground. He wasn't going to explain that his father was the very thing that drove him to solve that potion so quickly, because he knew from the memory of his father writhing in pain how dangerous it could be. That was not something he would share with anyone willingly, not even Harry.

Harry didn't say anything for a minute, studying the two other men standing before him in interest, almost intensely so. Draco squirmed uncomfortably, what was he supposed to say? It's been a long time? How have you been since many of the people you love were cruelly taken away from you? Thank you for saving my life twice? I'm in love with you, even now after three years, and won't have sex with anyone else unless they're the image of you? There was nothing he could say.

"Malfoy," He heard his name being said quietly, and looked up to see Harry already studying him, "How have you been?" His voice was level and betrayed nothing, a useful thing to be able to do as an Auror Draco remarked to himself.

"I've been as okay as anyone can be after a War," Draco answered the polite question as neutrally as he could, "and yourself?"

"Same here." Harry smiled, a small pull on his lips, and Draco's heart fluttered. That must have been the first time Harry had ever directed a smile in Draco's direction, one devoid of derision anyway. It seemed that Harry's hatred of Draco, which was still justly deserved in the latter's opinion, was not evident any more, unless he was even more adept at hiding his feelings than Draco even suspected.

"I've been fine too, you know," Ron started blathering, breaking the perfect silence, making Draco sigh internally, "I'm engaged to Hermione." Draco heard the hint of pride in his voice, and also protectiveness. Did he really think that Draco was going to attack Hermione or something or... or try to court her? He was mad as ever, that Weasley, but this time it didn't anger Draco. It was just how Weasley was.

"Well, good for you. I did happen to notice the ring on Granger's hand." Draco observed, keeping conversation light. "She hasn't really changed, has she? Still as book smart as ever."

Ron bristled angrily, but Harry distracted them both by rising and walking around his desk, standing in the middle of them. As if he sensed that Ron was getting riled up, no matter how conversational and pleasant Draco's words were. Some grudges really did die hard.

"Can I have a look at those notes?" Harry asked, gesturing at the pile of parchment in Draco's hands, and Draco consented with a nod. The papers were exchanged, Harry's hand brushing Draco's enough for merely a second, this enough to make Draco jump slightly, colour rising to his pale cheeks. Sensing Weasley scowling at him, Draco made his excuses and left at a fast walk. He couldn't be so transparent; even Weasley had noticed and Harry was more observant still.

Draco would have to keep his cool around Harry Potter, no matter how hard it would prove to be. There was no way that he would give away his feelings so quickly, if there ever came a time when he would show his feelings at all...

TBC!

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A/N: Thank you for reading, subscribing and reviewing! And yes, I know the Drarry isn't happening fast, but I'm planning to make this quite a long fic so it will come eventually. Just enjoy the story for what it is...? Please...? XD


	4. An Abrupt Invitation

Chapter 4 – An Abrupt Invitation

Draco had expected many things from his new job. He had known that there would be much book research, poring over old and decaying or big and back-breakingly heavy books and papers. He expected there to be potions and poisons testing, involving pain staking stirring, ingredient adding and notes taking. He had expected it to be difficult at times, his logical mind tested by unknown dark substances.

He had not, however, expected a friendship with Hermione Granger.

This was because he had always thought, until recently, that Hermione detested him. He wasn't surprised by it; he had acted like a complete bastard towards her during their school days, constantly insulting her and her best friends and trying to rile up the "Golden Trio." He had expected her to behave frostily towards him when they had started working together, but instead she had acted very pleasantly and made him feel very accepted and wanted in his new position as head of department.

It was almost as if the days of enmity didn't exist, the way that she always made nice, idle conversation with him whenever they didn't have work to do (their workload was quite sporadic; they either had three potions to study all at once or nothing at all) and listened to his instructions without complaining or refusing to carry them out when they were at work.

Soon he had gotten used to this unexpected dynamic in their relationship, and learnt to enjoy Hermione for her serious voice, her warm laughter and her hand extended to him in friendship. He accepted, albeit with slight confusion, her friendship wholeheartedly and for the first time in a very long time he had made a new friend (he still had one or two friends from back at Hogwarts, but for Draco with his infamous name and the dark tattoo that glared on his arm, never letting him forget his mistakes, new friends were hard to come by.)

So they had begun to eat lunch together at the Ministry canteens (Astoria's allotted lunch break was earlier than theirs, so she would watch them go each day looking sulky – Draco tended to ignore this, as he ignored many of Astoria's emotional whims, the girl certainly was unpredictable and he didn't altogether like her) and one day, a Friday, they had been discussing the latest potion they were working on (a nasty looking viscous blue substance that had poisoned over twenty Muggles in their homes – though it left no traces in the body so that other Muggles would think the cause was a simple heart attack) when Hermione caught Draco completely off guard with one simple question.

"A group of us are going to the Sleepy Owl pub tonight... would you be interested in coming?" The question had been quite out of the blue, given their conversation prior to it, and Draco hesitated for a few moments, not knowing what to say. Hermione took this as hesitation because he was about to say no, so she started talking quickly.

"Of course, if you don't want to, or you're busy, I understand, I was only wondering-"

"I'll go." Draco cut in, looking at his friend amusedly. Hermione beamed at him and even enveloped him in a hug, one that earned Draco a hard glare from Ron Weasley, who had just entered the canteen for his lunch.

"That's great!" Hermione exclaimed, not having noticed Ron stalking over to where they were sitting until she looked in the same direction as Draco himself.

"Hello Hermione." The redhead said, quite frostily, whilst completely ignoring Draco. He then grabbed her hand, looking at a different table pointedly and then looking back at Hermione. She understood and shook her head.

"Oh don't be so childish! You can sit here Ron." She chided her boyfriend, rolling her eyes, but said nothing more on the subject before turning back to where Draco was sitting.

"So you do want to go tonight? We're meeting at eight just for a drink and-" she was cut off by Weasley, this seeming to be a frequent habit of his.

"'Mione! You invited him?!" He was livid by this point, whether out of jealousy or general hatred just like back at school, Draco wasn't sure. "Why are you inviting Malfoy to our pub?"

"Ronald, you really need to stop holding grudges." Hermione admonished, giving Draco an apologetic look. "I'm friends with Draco now and he's changed, I've changed, it's not like how it used to be at school, right?" Draco, upon being addressed, gave a nod of consent. "Besides, it's not our pub. Draco has every right to go there." Ron opened his mouth to protest, but with a look from Hermione that Draco himself did not see, he abruptly closed it again. Draco had not forgotten how scary Hermione could be (he still remembered sorely the slap that he had gotten from her.)

An awkward silence descended upon the table, Ron still looking angry and Hermione looking as if the matter had been closed and Draco desperately felt that he wanted to leave. He made his excuses, saying that he was going to visit Blaise (who was still his friend, working as an Obliviator in the Accidents and Catastrophes Department) and got out of there before Weasley could explode at him, or whatever his growing anger would lead to.

He sighed; it would only be awkward and bitter for both him and Ron if he went to the Sleepy Owl and therefore would make things unpleasant for everyone. The problem was that Weasley didn't trust him at all, even if his own girlfriend did (this making it worse, as evidence showed.) Draco felt like shouting at him; that he really had changed, even if Weasley's views on him hadn't. He didn't treat non-pure bloods any differently to pure bloods any more. He had never truly supported Voldemort and only did so out of fear and doing what he was told. He was not like his crazed father, now dead for his mistakes. Neither was he his mother, who had left the country right after the final Battle and had not so much as sent him a post card since. He was not the ignorant fool that he had been as a teenager. He _had _changed, in ways he wanted and in ways that the grief of war caused.

But he was used to people still judging him on his name and the mistakes he had made in life. He knew that shouting at them made no difference and he would have to prove them wrong through his actions and honest words instead. Somehow Hermione had seen this and he was thankful for that, but Ron proved to be a lot more narrow-minded and Draco had to accept it; he had given the boy hell for years and he deserved some of it back. It was like that Muggle concept... Karma. He was getting back what he had given to people so many years ago; contempt and prejudice because of who he was.

He knocked on the door of the Obliviator office half-heartedly; he didn't really feel like talking to anyone, but it was high time that he paid Blaise a visit and he knew that talking to someone was better than moping around in his own office, possibly with Astoria staring at him (an unfortunate habit that he had noticed, but did not wholly understand.)

He was beckoned in by a short, serious looking witch into the office, which, quite like the Auror office, was littered with desks and boards with pamphlets and signs stuck onto them. He saw Blaise sitting in a corner, eating his own lunch, and went over to greet him.

He knew Blaise well, even now as an adult, and he had no qualms about being himself around the other man. He sat down with a huff and Blaise raised a dark eyebrow.

"Problems?" He asked in his deep, melodious voice and Draco scoffed, giving a half-amused, half-exasperated shrug.

"Weasley acting up at lunch." He said and Blaise accepted this as an ample explanation.

"He always did get riled up around you," The dark man commented, "and he hasn't changed very much over the years." Blaise turned his ever-watchful, observant eyes on Draco and studied him for a while. If Draco hadn't been so used to it by then he probably would have been made uncomfortable by the scrutinising.

"Since when did Weasley being angry mean anything to you?" He asked, a flicker of suspicion in his voice, "I thought you enjoyed winding him up."

Draco faltered; that was a very good question. He could not put into words his reasoning that he found himself wanting Ron Weasley's approval. Draco knew that he didn't _need _approval, but perhaps it was his way of wanting people to see he really had changed...?

"I just thought he would have changed by now, that's all." Draco muttered, though he knew that not everyone had changed over the past few years like he had strived to, "and I don't enjoy annoying him now, we're not school children now." He added defiantly, making Blaise chuckle.

"So you really are trying to turn over a new leaf?" He pondered, still staring at Draco in his unnerving manner. "Even with the people you hated most as a youth?" A slow smile made its way across his lips. "I think that's a good thing."

It would be a mild blessing from anyone else, but Draco took a lot of stock in his friend's words. Normally Blaise didn't give opinion on anything, he usually preferred to think things over and evade giving any straight answers. It made any definite answer he did give a lot more credible than it would be from most people.

"You do?" Draco asked, feeling more interested than miffed now. At least some people supported his trying to change, even Hermione did. "Perhaps I won't give up on Weasley yet then; I'll just have to try harder to gain his trust."

Blaise laughed again in his quiet way; Draco sounded lifted now, buoyant, but still with the undertone of arrogant competitiveness that he had always possessed. This seemed to be another test that Draco wanted to complete; another mountain he wanted to conquer. At least now the mountains were not of malevolence and wanting to be superior to others, but out of wanting to prove himself and to gain others respect through honest means.

Draco was trying, albeit in his own way. Some things never changed, Blaise reflected, no matter how much somebody wanted to change. Draco would always be himself, but now he was exploring a better side of himself, one that his parents had never encouraged. Now Draco was striving to conquer compassion, friendliness and love, things that he had never bothered with before. Blaise wondered about the exact moment when this wanting to change came about, but he didn't ask about it. Blaise preferred to work things out by himself and this would be one of those things.

Draco was more confident now that he would overcome the problems that Weasley presented. He was a friend of Harry's, Draco did not doubt it, and supposed that he must have some hidden charms that Draco himself had not been permitted to see, given that Ron immediately put up an angry front around him. He was determined to see past that front, to see how Weasley could change around him, because Draco knew that there was something there, something that Harry must have seen himself.

Draco knew that if he truly wanted to show others, especially Harry, how different he was he would have to spend time around them and this was what he planned to do with Weasley. He would be going to the Sleepy Owl that night if he had to battle through a storm to get there.


	5. An Evening At The Sleepy Owl

**Chapter Five – An Evening at the Sleepy Owl**

Draco arrived at the Sleepy Owl on the balmy, May evening and looked around him. The place was cosy looking, with grey and pink-red granite walls, a large wooden door open to the bustling rooms within and a sign above it adorned with a Tawny Owl, its eyes closed. Every now and then it would rustle its wings in a relaxed way.

As soon as Draco walked in he was hit with delicious smells of food, the laughter and chatter of other patrons and a warm, yellow-tinted light that bounced off the gleaming bar and the wooden tables with their accompanying comfy chairs. The chairs themselves were mismatched tastefully and most were occupied by other people. Draco looked around, unsure of himself suddenly... where was Hermione?

Unfortunately Ron spotted him first, and made it clear that he was unwanted by turning away from him, an expression of mistrust embellishing his face. Draco gulped; proving the man wrong would be harder than he had initially thought. Then, to Ron's evident dismay, Hermione spotted him and waved. Draco walked over to the bar where they were, getting drinks for the rest.

"Draco, you made it!" Hermione sounded delighted and Draco felt less out of place. "What would you like to drink?" She gestured to the bar and Draco made a split-second decision.

"A pint of Hippogriff's, please." He said to the barman and was passed a pint of the beer, which was poured from a bottle with a picture of a very regal-looking Hippogriff on the front.

"Huh, I didn't think you'd drink beer." Ron noted, sounding less irritated and more curious and, dare Draco think it, impressed.

"I've developed a taste for it over the past couple of years." Draco admitted and Ron nodded, heading over to a table across the other side of the room without another word. Hermione sent him an apologetic look on her boyfriend's behalf, for the second time that day.

"I'm sure he'll come around, Ron's just a bit... slow, with that sort of thing." She said and Draco simply smiled.

"I understand why he's angry; I was never pleasant to you at school – why should he want to be civil to me?" Draco questioned, and Hermione looked thoughtful.

"People can change, of that I'm sure," She answered, "and I can tell that you've changed for the better, ever since in the Room of Requirement during the battle... when Harry..." She trailed off, and Draco tried to slow his hammering heart. What was she thinking? "I guess that when someone saves your life you will be indebted to them. I think that's why you're being so agreeable towards us now." She nodded, sure of her answer. Draco sighed internally; she had only said agreeable, nothing more. Nothing about love, nor did she say just Harry, she had talked about them all. His secret wasn't out yet.

With that exchange of words they made their way over to the table of Hermione's other friends, a scowling Ron included, and Draco almost, gasped when he saw Harry.

The man who had haunted his dreams, was forever present in his thoughts and feelings, was looking completely... well, edible, Draco thought distantly, for want of a better description. He was clad in a dark shirt, done up most of the way but revealing just the right amount of skin, and a tight pair of dark blue, stonewashed jeans. The look was simple but had a lot of impact, especially to Draco. He had to look away before he could start breathing again. He hoped that Harry hadn't noticed anything, engaged in conversation with the person to his left.

Draco felt his whole stomach plummet: Harry was talking to Seamus Finnegan. He avoided Seamus' look in his direction, full of determination and also residual lust, and focused instead on the other people sitting at the table. There was Neville Longbottom, who no longer looked as chubby and clumsy as he had at school, seated the other side of Seamus, and next to him was Luna Lovegood, looking as pensive and strange as ever in a bright green dress. Then there was Dean Thomas, who was staring at him with a frown (Draco didn't detect hostility there, but it still unnerved him slightly) followed by Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan, who he had never really talked to before.

Right in front of him sat someone who he instantly recognized, even by the back of his head. Theodore Nott, now an Unspeakable at the Ministry (which suited his natural quiet thoughtfulness and ability to keep secrets to the grave), turned around and gave him a slight smile. Draco smiled back, relieved to see a friendly face.

"Hello, Draco. You can sit here, if you wish." His voice was neutral, but Draco knew that Nott was being friendly towards him. He sat gratefully, feeling less awkward now he was on a level with everyone else, and immediately started a conversation with his ex-Slytherin friend. Quite soon, helped by Hermione joining in the conversation and soon starting a table discussion, Draco was soon learning a lot more about the other people seated at the table.

Apparently Luna and Neville were engaged, to be married in two months, and Draco could see by the occasional passing look or smile that they were very much in love. The only other couples at the table were Hermione with Ron and Hannah with Ernie, Draco knowing that Theodore was single and that Dean had just broken up with his boyfriend (Boyfriend! Draco thought to himself and, given that nobody else batted an eyelash at this, he knew that they accepted it completely. Well, at least Draco had no reason to be awkward around these people because of his sexuality.)

Nobody, not even the man himself, commented on Harry's current relationship status, and Draco had to try and contain his heart from soaring in hope. _Just because it hasn't been mentioned doesn't mean that he isn't still with that Ginny Weasley, or with somebody else. Don't get your hopes up!_

He kept on telling himself that, but he could not help but notice how sullen Harry looked when the conversation had moved onto love lives. He had receded into himself evidently, staring at the drink in front of him, and was not the glowing, content Harry that Draco had been so breathless upon seeing earlier. Draco could not help but catch the man's mood and he started to feel sullen too.

He also could not help but notice Seamus' stares, growing bolder and less hidden as the man drank more and more, and it was making him uncomfortable. He regretted sleeping with Seamus, as he had regretted with all the others, but this regret was sharper due to the man's connections with Harry. Christ, they were even sitting right next to each other! The real thing and someone Draco had used as a mirror image!

Once or twice he even noticed Harry, as he always noticed Harry, glancing from him to Seamus with a puzzled expression. It just made him feel more skittish. When Harry rose from the table, making the excuse that he wanted to go out for fresh air (the topic had turned to Luna and Neville's marriage plans) Draco could have sighed in relief. He also felt worried though, but for a different reason. What was troubling Harry? He so desperately wanted to know.

"What are you staring at?" He heard a voice to his left and dragged his eyes away from the back door, which Harry had walked out of into the night only two minutes ago.

"Come again?" He answered and Hermione laughed at a joke he hadn't known was there in his words.

"I was wondering why you were staring at the door! Is something wrong?" Her cheeks were pink; Draco decided that it had to be the alcohol because she also sounded a lot more laid back and confidant than her usual studious self.

"Oh..." Draco began, wondering if he could use Hermione's slight inebriation to his advantage, "I was just wondering why Harry had walked out. It was when Luna and Neville were talking about their wedding..." He looked up at Hermione hopefully, who was looking as if she was waging an internal argument. Eventually she spoke, sounding guarded and cautious.

"Well, Harry's been a bit touchy about the marriage subject for a while now. You see, he and Ginny were engaged but, well, you know how it is..." She seemed unwilling to talk and Draco understood.

"You don't want to talk about it because it's Harry's tale to tell." He said and she nodded sadly.

"It's not that I don't trust you," She said, "but I don't like talking about other people like that. I think that Harry should be able to give people details like that on his own."

"I completely understand," Draco said, looking to the door, "I'm going to go outside for a bit actually. Perhaps I can talk Harry into coming back in. It's cold out there..."

Hermione watched him go with a small frown, wondering why he was so concerned about Harry. Then her eyes were alight with understanding and her mouth formed a small 'O'. _So that's how it is...?_

Draco walked outside into the pub's small back-garden and released a small shiver; it was a lot colder outside now than it had been when he had arrived at the Sleepy Owl. It was properly dark now, night covering the street like a cavernous invisibility cloak, the only available light from the distant half-moon or the star-littered navy sky.

He could just make out the silhouette of another person, standing at the end of the slightly unkempt garden, its grass seeking to cover the pathways that wound through it and ending at a bench that the other person stood next to. Draco walked a few steps, faltered, and carried on walking. He stopped again, unsure of whether Harry would want him there. What did the other man really think of Draco now? Could it be that he disliked Draco as much as Weasley did, but hid it well?

The figure turned and Draco's breath hitched; Harry's form was bathed in the dim light from the moon and from the cheery yellow windows of the pub, and Draco was reminded strongly of when they were in the burning Room of Requirement, Harry's face that time reflecting the yellow-orange light of the fire.

"I know you're there," The voice said, not sounding unfriendly but not sounding warm either, but Draco took this as his cue to walk towards Harry, stopping at his side, though with a respectful distance between them.

The simple closeness, not even one of touch, brought goose bumps to Draco's skin and he was having difficulty at breathing steadily. He had not been this close to Harry in many, many years, and all the times before this he had usually been fighting him, causing him pain and anger. Now all he wanted was to cause was happiness, and part of him thought it as strange, but mostly he felt it to be natural and the way things should be.

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, Draco feeling too overwhelmed and slightly nervous, Harry seeming to enjoy the silence though Draco couldn't tell what he was feeling, his face hidden by darkness. Then Harry began to speak again and Draco was calmed by his low, smooth voice.

"Why did you stop walking?" He asked, and Draco didn't feel afraid, even though his answer could possibly reveal so much. Instead he chose to reveal the simplest truth.

"You looked so deep in thought, I didn't want to disturb you." He knew the words made sense, and they were honest, but only skimmed the surface of what he wanted to say. _I was afraid that you would want me gone, I was terrified at the thought of you hating me, I didn't want to find out a harsh truth like that. I love so much, I couldn't stand thinking that you feel the complete opposite. Friendship, complete neutrality, anything but hatred. Why would you have saved me if you do hate me? Maybe you do and only saved me out of pity. Maybe it meant nothing to you. That would be the end of me._

He let the thoughts ring out into the silence, knowing that saying them would be too risky and fatal and would be a huge change, one that he was not willing to take just yet, if ever.

"I was deep in thought," Harry concurred, "but you could always stop me from being an antisocial git." The comment was sudden and Draco was laughing before he could stop himself. Soon Harry was joining in, their shared laughter ringing out into the night air. After a few moments the sound died and Draco felt slightly empty; Harry's laughter had been the most wonderful sound and now it was gone, leaving silence in its wake.

"Shall we go back in again?" Draco asked, anything to break that silence, and Harry nodded at him, a smile ghosting across his barely visible face. Draco liked this, not seeing Harry properly and Harry not seeing him properly either. He did love to see Harry, but somehow in the darkness he felt that they could be really open with each other, not having to hide their expressions.

They turned and began to walk back into the pub, but Harry stopped suddenly and Draco did too, turning to look at him. He then followed Harry's gaze to the man standing at the door, his outline black against the bright light of the doorway. His sight adjusting, Draco knew it to be Seamus, looking distressed and also, Draco felt mortified, jealous.

"Draco, can I talk to you?" He asked and Draco didn't know what to say. Everything had been so perfect until that moment. Harry made his decision for him.

"I'll leave you two alone." He said without looking at either of them and disappeared back into the light, lost in the sea of chairs, tables and faces. Draco watched him go whilst wishing that he was still there at his side, but then turned to look at Seamus. He felt annoyed; why had Seamus interrupted like that? He soon got his answer as Seamus grabbed his arm, pulling him to the bottom of the garden again where he and Harry had stood only moments ago.

"What were you two doing?" Seamus asked, his voice containing a bite of anger that made Draco draw back from him.

"Talking," Draco answered curtly, "Why do you care?"

"Oh, talking, just talking," Seamus was sounding more livid, "I'm sure that's it. I bet you two were all over each other..." His grip on Draco's arm was becoming more and more painful and Draco struggled, becoming afraid now. The man was clearly angry about him and Harry being alone together... could it be that he really was jealous?

"It's none of your business what did and did not happen." Draco tried to make his tone sound clipped and disdainful, but could not quite manage it. Seamus sensed his fear and pounced on it, the usually happy-go-lucky man not seeming himself at all.

"It's every bit my business. I know that the Polyjuice Potion made me take Harry's form and I know about your little infatuation with him. You used me... you used me just for Harry..." He sounded resentful and resolute, "So now you're going to let me use you."

Draco was astounded and now even more afraid. "What are you talking about?"

"Here's the deal: I want you, even if you only want Harry for whatever sick purposes. I know you wouldn't want him to find out, I can tell you fear him discovering your twisted little vice, so unless you please me I will do just that and tell him." Seamus was eyeing Draco with desire, fury, jealousy, Draco couldn't tell, but at the sound of someone else's voice he pulled away.

"What's going on?" Draco heard Ron's voice and could have almost laughed, if he had not been so terrified. Ron certainly did have the ability to butt into everything with his loud voice. This time Draco appreciated it.

"Nothing," Seamus answered, back to sounding happy if not a bit clueless, "We were just having a chat." He then sauntered back into the pub, leaving Draco feeling scared and not just a bit sick.

Ron walked over to him slowly, unsure whether to come over or not. When he did reach him he could see the fear etched into the blonde man's face. Despite himself he felt sorry for Malfoy. Whatever had happened, it hadn't been a "chat" as Seamus had put it. Malfoy looked seriously shaken.

"Come on, let's go back in." Ron said gruffly, not sure what to do, and Draco seemed to snap out of his fearful reverie. He followed Ron back inside without another word and left soon after making his excuses. Hermione watched him go worriedly, but Ron wouldn't say anything about it (if he were the one caught in that situation, looking so scared, he wouldn't have wanted to spread it around) even though he was slightly worried himself, even though he firmly tried to deny it. He stared at the front door after Malfoy had left thoughtfully for a few moments before turning back to his drink and engaging Dean in conversation.

He didn't notice Harry, who also watched the door, but for a much longer time than Ron had.


	6. Returning The Favour

**Chapter Six – Returning the Favour, Turning to Despair**

Draco's second week of work at the Ministry was passing in slow succession of long days in which he was forever adding ingredients, stirring contents of various cauldrons and taking notes on his slower than desired progress. The viscous blue poison was a curious, difficult one to figure out and Hermione and Astoria were busy working on the other potions that were slowly piling up on the desk in the middle of the room, bubbling and smoking their different colours and odours ominously.

He added some lacewig slowly, thinking that perhaps it would help neutralise the dangerous substance, but to no avail. He carried on stirring for a few more tedious minutes until inspiration struck.

"Of course! I can't believe I didn't think of it before!" He hurried to the store cupboard and opened the draw labelled "Bezoars." It was a risk – if the poison was not cancelled out by it then it would just get more complicated – but he was willing to take it. He dropped it into the cauldron and the potion bubbled viciously for a minute, as if fighting the small stone, but then turned a pale green. Draco knew then that the poisonous substance in the liquid had to have been a mixture of Belladonna and what appeared to be Moonseed berries (giving the poison its blue-purple colour) and that he had succeeded in creating an remedy.

Hermione, sensing his excitement, rushed over and peered into the cauldron.

"It's completely changed," she breathed the words in surprise and then gave Draco the biggest smile he had ever seen on her face, "Well done! I knew you had it in you-"

"It was a stroke of luck really." Draco cut across her, as he habitually endeavoured not to be too full of himself these days, but he could not help the swell of pride in his chest. The blue poison was part of a case that Harry was working on – by succeeding in creating an antidote Draco would be helping his case. His will to impress and help Harry was strong, which was probably why he was more driven with potions concerning Harry's work than any others. Hermione herself had noticed this and always, on the sly, tried to make it that Draco's work had something to do with her Auror friend.

"Are you going to take it to the Auror department?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the knowing smirk out of her tone (she knew that it would only get her new friend suspicious and jumpy.)

Draco managed to look jumpy anyway, but not for any reason Hermione was thinking of. He hadn't seen Harry since the night at the Sleepy Owl and he was afraid that on meeting again Harry would ask him questions about what Seamus had wanted from him. Draco didn't want Harry to know, more than anyone, about what was going on, it would be too shameful. In fact, he wasn't planning on telling anyone about the blackmail, despite how desperately afraid and miserable it was making him feel deep down.

"No, no thanks, I was going to start on this potion here..." He gestured vaguely to the last vial on the middle table, hoping that Hermione would be able to take the potion and notes herself, but it turned out that Astoria saved the day.

"I'll take it, Draco!" She piped up suddenly, sounding more cheerful than Draco had ever heard her before (she had been quiet and sullen most of that day) and took the antidote and notes from him, giving him a small smile. Then she flounced away, the door clicking shut behind her to leave Draco bemused and Hermione with a knowing smile that this time she could not quite control.

"What do you think of Astoria?" She asked, trying to sound flippant and offhanded, but she looked at her friend intently for a reaction. Draco betrayed nothing interesting, his expression merely thoughtful.

"She's alright," he said finally, "a bit too serious most of the time, but fine to work with." His answer sounded honest and without ambiguity. Hermione nodded; so Astoria's feelings, which she had figured out on Draco's first day of work, were not returned which only supported her theory about Draco further... she returned to her desk to think.

Draco settled into clearing up his desk (making sure to siphon the rest of the antidote from the cauldron into another vial just in case) and then setting out new apparatus for the next case, a very ugly looking thin black liquid that would not stop bubbling. Nobody knew what exactly it was, but it had been found on Fenrir Greyback's person at the time of his capture and was suspected to be some sort of potion that would turn him partly into werewolf form when the moon was not full (something Draco thought that Greyback, the bloodthirsty horror, would love to have in his possession.)

He pored over the potion for the next few hours and even left a bit later than Hermione and Astoria (what else did he have to do anyway? The only plans he had were for the next night – his stomach gave a sickly jolt – he was to be visiting Seamus Finnegan for the evening, quite against his will. He tried not to think about it.)

He was just about to walk in when a fully formed patronus in the form of a Lynx glided through the wall, stopping to sit at his feet and look up through ghostly coloured intelligent eyes.

"You are to apparate to St Mungo's immediately with the antidote you created for the blue poison today. Harry Potter is in trouble." The voice sounded curiously like Kingsley Shaklebolt's, that deep voiced serious Auror, but Draco did not pause to think about this. His mind was too violated by horrible images of Harry in pain, suffering, dying...

Running into the stock room he grabbed the vial of pale green antidote and, without another thought, he span on the spot and Disapparated, thinking fiercely of his location to be...

He Apparated in a corridor, assuming it to be inside St. Mungo's due to the clinical scent in the air and a healer bustling past him, but he had no idea how far away from Harry he was...

He called out to the healer, who turned around looking distinctly ruffled and hurried.

"In which ward is Harry Potter?"

The healer gestured to the door right beside Draco and, without hearing a single word from them, Draco burst through that very door and looked wildly around the ward. It was sparsely decorated and there were only three people in the room, two healers walking purposefully around a bed and then the occupant in the bed itself.

"Draco Malfoy?" One of them addressed Draco and he nodded quickly, striding over the bed to where Harry was laying unconscious. He produced the vial of antidote without speaking and a healer took it from him, pouring it into the IV connected to Harry's arm and, with a whispered spell, the liquid poured down the tube and into his awaiting body.

Draco stood back, feeling nervous and quite a bit dizzy and a healer, upon noticing this, produced a chair for him from thin air by Harry's bed. Draco sat down gratefully, never taking his eyes off the man in the bed who, from the peaceful look on his face, looked as if he was merely sleeping, and not having nearly just died from a fatal poison.

It was a fair few minutes before he noticed the one other person in the room who he registered to be Kingsley Shacklebolt, head of Harry's department.

"Thank you for getting here so quickly, we were very close to losing Harry there." He said in his deep reassuring voice, reminding Draco keenly of an older version of Blaise. "I will have to get going, I need to report back to the Ministry about his stability."

Draco simply nodded in reply, not being able to find words to say. A small _crack_ told him that the other man had left the room. It must have been Kingsley's patronus that had summoned him, Draco reflected, for the voice had been one and the same.

Draco sat there for minutes, hours, days, he did not know, watching over the unconscious man in the bed. He did not want to move from that spot, feeling that if he did leave perhaps Harry may slip away again without him being there to help, even if he knew that the poison in his system had been cancelled out. He just didn't want to take any sort of risk; he cared too much.

He was only roused from his worried brooding by two more small _cracks, _this time belonging to Hermione and Ron. They both looked as shocked and worried as he felt, Ron looking extremely pale and drawn and Hermione openly started crying when she saw Harry laying there, weak and vulnerable.

"Oh Harry!" She lamented, and then took in Draco's presence. Ron already had and was glaring at him suspiciously, but Hermione seemed to just think of it as something normal and passed no comment on it.

She conjured up two more chairs and they all sat for a while, watching over Harry. It was a while before any more words were said, but then Hermione simply had to ask the questions simmering in her mind, even though Draco looked too sick with worry even to speak.

"So he had been infected with that poison? The one you were working on this afternoon?" She asked and Draco nodded, opening his mouth but, not being able to say anything, closing it again in defeat.

"And you brought him the antidote?" Draco nodded again, now focusing on Harry again. She placed one hand on his back and smiled. "That was very noble of you, Harry could have died without... without" she let out a sob and hid her face in her hands. Draco, seeming to be roused further out of his own shock by the sound of grief, passed her a tissue from the bedside table. She smiled at him again, this time more sadly. "Sorry, I just..."

"It's okay." Draco replied, his voice sounding cracked and strained, nothing like his usual composed self. He immediately regretted speaking; he had given so much away in just two words. Even Ron had noticed, looking at him not with suspicion, but with a frown anyway. So far he had not said anything and didn't seem to want to talk. They all sat there in silence instead, Hermione letting out the occasional sniffle.

They were interrupted with another healer bustling into the room, noting Harry's vitals and smiling at them after doing so, making Draco want to sigh in relief.

"That antidote is certainly doing its magic, Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Potter is well on his way to recovery, quicker than we had even dared to hope. He should even be awake in an hour or two..." With that she was quickly out of the room again, clearly on her way to check another patient.

"Oh, I wish we could stay to see him wake!" Hermione exclaimed, checking her watch with a disappointed grimace.

"Yeah..." Ron finally spoke, "but we promised Mum and Dad to go to that stupid dinner thing, plus they'll be wanting to find out whether Harry's okay or not. We really should be there to tell them about it."

Hermione gave Draco another reassuring pat on the back, "Will you be staying?" Draco detected hope in her voice, he knew that she wanted to stay really, and he nodded.

"Of course I will." He would have stayed whether Hermione had wanted it or not; he had to wait until Harry was awake again, talking and laughing and really living. He would not leave until then.

Ron and Hermione both made their goodbyes and left after one last look at their best friend. Draco returned to watching Harry's unconscious form himself, comforted by every rise and fall of his chest. He did not know how long he stayed like that, but when Harry woke it was a long time past nightfall.

"Nnn... Where... Where am I?" His voice was sleepy and unsure, his tired yet bright green eyes searching for something familiar in the non-descript hospital ward. Draco shifted uncomfortably, feeling very much that he did not belong there, and Harry's gaze fell on him. He was thoroughly relieved when Harry did not look at him angrily, just with confusion and what looked like relief of his own.

"Draco... tell me, what am I doing here?" His indignant tone caused Draco to laugh and Harry smiled lopsidedly whilst reaching out for his glasses. Draco passed them to him and their hands touched again. Draco cursed his reaction; how was that normal for one simple touch?

"Well, I was hoping you'd fill me in on how you got poisoned..." Draco raised his eyebrows but, without getting any sort of explanation from the other man carried on, "but you don't remember?"

"No..." Harry looked troubled, his face scrunched up slightly as he tried to recapture a memory that had clearly already fluttered away, and Draco had to stop himself from reaching out and touching that face. It was very tempting, but he knew there was no way that would end comfortably. "I don't remember much, to be honest."

Draco nodded, watching expectantly (well, he wanted to know who had done it so he could personally get them reprimanded in the most violent of manners the Ministry would allow, but he wouldn't let Harry know that) so Harry went into more detail, although Draco could see that he was uncomfortable about something.

"Well, I was on duty, outside somewhere we considered to be a rogue Voldemort supporter hangout... they've been banding together a lot recently, to put up a new resistance even if their leader is gone... anyway, I got a phone call from... someone..."

"A phone call?" Draco blurted out, at first confused by the mention of a Muggle contraption, but then he realized that it made sense really. Nowadays wizards were using Muggle ideas and technology more and more, mobile phones being one of them. Draco had some Muggle items himself, even a toaster (well, without House Elves or the kitchen-magic know how, how else was he to get his toast fix in the morning?)

"Yes, a phone call," Harry looked inexplicably uncomfortable at this point, "and that must have been what distracted me slightly. It was unprofessional, I know, but it was... important to me. The moment after I hung up everything went dark, I hadn't even felt any magic come my way, I just... I just blacked out..." Harry had receded into himself, his eyes looking pensive, and it seemed that he was finished talking.

"Okay," Draco cleared his throat, the atmosphere making him feel like he shouldn't even be there, "So you passed out-" Harry frowned "I mean knocked out, and then given the poison. I was called in here by Kingsley, seeming as I had the remaining antidote, and then you were fine. So that's that." Draco looked at the door, not sure whether Harry wanted him still there or not, but then he felt a strong hand grip his arm.

It was Harry holding his arm and staring deeply into his eyes, his face overwhelmingly close and the whole sudden image breath taking.

"You saved my life." Harry stated, his voice astonished and grateful, and it was too much, too much. It reminded Draco strongly of the Battle, of how he had felt, of Harry saving his own life. It clicked right there and then that Draco himself had returned the favour by getting Harry the antidote in time.

"I..." Draco was struggling to breathe, let alone talk, "it wasn't anything like that. I just... did what I was asked..." He was so close, so _there, _and Draco was definitely not thinking straight. He wanted to grab the other man, kiss him, touch him, pour three years of yearning into him, but he knew that he couldn't. Harry was grateful, but that would be it. There was no way that his feelings would ever be returned, even in a moment such as this.

"I have to go." He stood abruptly and Apparated inelegantly away, leaving Harry still reaching out to an arm that was no longer there, flesh and blood turned to air.

Before he had enough time to think this sudden exit over, a healer barged in, presumably to check on him again. He gave Harry a warm smile on seeing him awake.

"Ah, so you're conscious again." He looked at the empty chairs in front of Harry with raised eyebrows. "Where'd your friend go?"

It took Harry a minute or so to process this. "Oh, you mean Draco! Well, he just left actually..."

"Definitely a friend to keep, that one," the healer said as he went around adjusting things and clearing away the chairs, "He was with you for hours, this entire evening actually. Looked really worried about you." With that miniature bombshell (of which the healer himself was oblivious) he left the room.

"All evening...?" Harry repeated to himself, surprised and also slightly flattered. Normally even Hermione and Ron wouldn't stay with him that long, they accepted the dangers like that as part of his job, Ron being at the same danger himself. Also, since when was Draco _worried _about him?

It didn't add up, it really didn't. For years they had been at each other's throats, baying for each other's blood practically, and couldn't be around one another for five minutes without arguing and then sending hexes flying. Then, after the fateful night of the final battle against Voldemort, he had not seen Draco Malfoy for three years.

What had he done to change Malfoy from wanting to kill him to being _worried _about him?

No, it just didn't make any sense.

* * *

The next day passed far too quickly for Draco's liking.

That night he would be initiated into becoming a victim of blackmail and another man's desire and he was not looking forward to it at all. For one, he did not often have sex unless he desperately needed it (he couldn't stay a chaste little virgin for years, even for Harry), and in that case it would only be if somebody was the perfect image of Harry (he knew it was weird, not to mention unhealthy, but he only felt comfortable with it when it was Harry, even if only by image)

When six o'clock (the end of his working hours) came along he was feeling extremely tense and every tiny movement or noise was making him want to punch something in rage. He felt like a caged animal, wanting to thrash out even though he knew that there was no point because he was stuck with what he was about to do.

He had gotten himself into the whole thing, so he would just have to go through with it. There was no way he could tell anyone, so he was just going to keep quiet about it. He was completely used to going through things by himself anyway, now without parents to support him (what with his father dead and his mother completely out of the picture) and none of the reputation that his family name used to hold.

With these thoughts he Apparated to an uneasily familiar little apartment, seeming as the last time he had been there he had barely looked at it. His eyes fixed onto the other person in the room immediately and he tried to contain his resentment and fear. The situation would just get worse unless he stayed calm; he couldn't let Seamus know that it was getting to him.

"Draco." Seamus rose, wearing a T-shirt and jeans, and made no hesitation before making his way over to where the subject of his fierce gaze stood. Draco had to summon a will of steel to stop himself backing away in disgust, the look on Seamus' face was so blatant at showing exactly what he was thinking of.

He looped one arm around Draco's waist and pulled him in until there was no space at all between their bodies and Draco fought back the grimace that was trying to break through his mind and onto his expression. He would just have to put up for it, for Harry.

"I've been waiting for you." He whispered into Draco's ear, his breath too warm and relentless, and he pulled Draco close until the other man's head was resting in the crook of his neck.

"I was on time." Draco whispered, hardly trusting him to speak properly without his vocal chords failing him, and Seamus simply laughed a low, guttural, lusty sound, which sent shivers of disgust through Draco, not of desire.

"I know." He said and, without any further explanation, he grabbed Draco's arm forcefully and pulled him roughly to the bedroom. Draco let himself be dragged, already committing himself to his fate.

When Seamus closed the door to his room Draco felt his hope escape through it without him. Seamus took his face in both hands and turned it so that Draco could only focus on him, not on the door.

"There's no point trying to escape," He said slowly, a smirk on his face, "unless you want me to tell Harry about your sick fantasies for him... using his body without consent... I wouldn't think it wise for him to know."

"I know that." Draco said, trying to keep his voice calm, "and I don't want him to know. I'm not going to run away."

"Good." Seamus' tone was final and triumphant. "I'm glad that you understand. Now lie on the bed."

Draco lowered himself onto the bed slowly, the once comfortable place feeling like a slab of stone against his back. Seamus wasted no time in climbing on top of him, making Draco feel well and truly trapped.

"There won't be any Polyjuice Potion this time." He said forcefully, beginning to undress the man pinned under him. "You will learn to love me for who I am, not when I pretend to be Harry." He sounded the angriest at saying Harry's name, spitting out the word and making Draco want to flinch.

Then he began to kiss Draco's bare chest, his hand exploring every contour and making Draco feel dirty, the kind of dirty that would be very hard to come clean from afterwards.

Draco tried to focus on Harry's laughter, Harry's smile, Harry thanking him at the hospital, Harry, Harry, Harry.... but it didn't work, he could not stop seeing Seamus' face, intruding on his happy memories.

He gave up, mentally and physically, to the other man. It was not as if Harry would ever be attracted to him as Seamus so obviously was, so he may as well give up on it as a lost hope.

He then closed off completely, his eyes vacant and staring as Seamus slowly and painfully violated him...

An hour later Draco returned to his own apartment and, not bothering to turn on any lights or get changed out of his ruffled clothes, he curled up into bed and could not quite contain the tears that rolled silently down his pale face.

He had turned to the only friend he had left, one that had been there through the time he had been a Death Eater, through the time when he had visited his father in Azkaban and through the final battle. He had turned to despair.

* * *

Thankyou MaidenStar, Zeratera and Smaradgus for your reviews!! They make this story worth writing! If you want to review, even if it's negative, don't be shy! :) I really love reviews.

p.s. I apologize for the sheer amount of angst and melodrama in this chapter! (and any OOCness in the story.) That's just how I write! XD

p.p.s. As for the crazy potions stuff - no logical thought or research goes into this, I mean - this is me here, aha, I never research... silly silly people who may think I do.


	7. A Trip Down Twisted Memory Lane

**Chapter Seven – A Trip Down Twisted Memory Lane**

Harry returned to work on the Friday of that week, feeling thoroughly well rested and also thoroughly behind on his work. The stacks of files and documents on his desk had reached an all-time high (honestly, Harry had not been expecting this much paper work when he had signed up, but it was important stuff no matter how tedious) even though Ron had willingly taken over a couple of his cases in his absence.

In fact, he had no more practical or surveillance work to do, seeming as the rest of the Auror team had it all covered. All he had left was paper work and it was thoroughly depressing.

He sighed in relief when the clock hands had finally crept along to the start of his lunch hour and he stood up from his desk, stretching his legs. A walk to the cafeteria and some hot food would surely wake him up from his paper work induced stupor.

Whilst enjoying a warm chicken baguette, he had more time (of which there had been plenty whilst staying at St. Mungo's) to plan how he was going to handle things Draco-wise.

Firstly, he had not even had time to thank the man properly before his speedy Apparition away (which Harry would have thought of as rude if Draco hadn't looked so spooked, he was sure there must have been some valid reason) and secondly, he was very much wondering what the cause was to the abrupt exit. He didn't like to think of himself as nosey, but as soon as Draco had left, looking as if he had forgotten something completely life changing, he had grown an insatiable desire to know what was going on.

In fact, whilst in hospital all he could think of was the other man, even when Hermione and Ron were visiting and he really should have been paying attention to them. Even that whole morning, which was probably why he was being even slower with paper work than he usually was, this doing him absolutely no favours what so ever.

Why could he not get Draco Malfoy off of his mind?

_I have an idea... _a coy little voice spoke up, but the rest of Harry's mind soon shut it up. He was not going to start thinking like that again, that was what ruined everything for him with the woman he had most definitely, most absolutely, completely whole heartedly loved. With no doubt at all, of course.

It was that little voice that had whispered under his conscious for his entire life. It was the voice that had bugged him during the entire phone conversation... the one that had ended abruptly after he had blacked out. It was that very little voice that had spoken up at the complete wrong time and sent Harry's whole life crashing around him a few years earlier.

He had been dating Ginny Weasley for two years, ever since the night of the Battle when they had picked up where they had left off, and everything was going according to their life plans. Well, Ginny's life plans for them, but Harry was happy with it all anyway, most of the time.

They had recently gotten engaged and wedding plans were already in full operation. Molly Weasley, chief female of the Weasley clan, was trying very hard to supervise everything, although Ginny would often argue with her over things (well, it was her wedding after all, though she often neglected to ask Harry's opinion about anything. Again, Harry didn't mind, he decided that anything Ginny was happy with he was happy with.)

They had been eating dinner, a quiet affair as was usual at that point. Harry had been finding Ginny less and less easy to talk to, seeming as all she talked about was the wedding – Harry often tried to change the subject, but to no avail, Ginny was almost as obsessed as her mother and the wedding was foremost in her mind. Harry tried to fool himself that he found it endearing, but he could not.

He was beginning to dislike the wedding; it seemed to be a monster that was driving him and Ginny apart, enormous and dangerous in all its complications, expense and decisions.

Also, the niggling doubt that had always been in the back of his mind, since dating Ginny, since sort of dating Cho, even before that, was beginning to surface more frequently and strongly as the wedding date loomed closer and closer. Harry was feeling less and less attracted to Ginny and more attracted to... well he always had been... other men.

When he was younger he had thought that perhaps it was just a phase, a curiosity that boys went through, but now he had to accept it: it had been years and he was still, on the whole, more attracted to men than women. And now he wasn't even attracted to Ginny any longer, who was meant to be the love of his life. He was beside himself with guilt and could not keep quiet about it; how could he marry somebody he didn't love passionately, even Ginny, the girl who he _had _always loved like a sister?

That was why he had spoken up, out of shame and frustration.

"Ginny, I think I'm gay."

If it were even possible, the quietness had seemed to get even more empty and silent after he had broken it with those cursed words. Ginny had simply looked up at him, trying to look amused but still showing her true worry.

"Harry, is this some kind of joke?" She had laughed, but it sounded completely fake, worried even.

"No," Harry had replied sincerely, "I honestly think that I'm gay. I can't marry you because of it – I would just be lying to you. I'm sorry."

Ginny's eyes brimmed over with tears at his words and she held her face in her hands, sobbing.

"Why does it have to be now? Why?" She had wailed, causing Harry to frown. Did she mean that...

"You knew?" He had asked, shocked and just a bit angry.

"Of course I knew!" She had lamented, looking up at him with sparkling eyes and quivering lips. "I know you, Harry, you've been gay for years!"

"What?" Harry exclaimed, shifting with... discomfort, anger, sadness for Ginny? He couldn't decide. "You mean that you've known for all this time, yet you've still been with me and even engaged to me?"

"I'm sorry," Ginny had said, quieter now in her own guilt, "but I just didn't want to accept it. I thought that as long as you didn't admit it we'd be okay, but I always knew that someday you would tell me and then we'd have to break up."

She had then looked up at him biting her lip. "I just didn't want to accept it, because I've always loved you, but now I have to. Will you forgive me?"

Harry had not known what to say. On the one hand, he was angry that Ginny had been prolonging their relationship for so long, even agreeing to marry him, when she knew that eventually they wouldn't work out. On the other he felt irredeemably sorry for her; she really had loved him, even if he hadn't loved her in the same way, and now they really would have to part.

"I forgive you." Harry had concluded sadly, knowing it to be true. He would not stay angry for long, but he would stay guilty about it for the rest of his days.

He was sick - that was the only explanation. He had disappointed one of the most important people to him just because of his own twisted sexuality. He did not deserve anybody for what he had done to the one person who had loved him and who he was after that.

That was when he resigned himself to loneliness, stamping out any source of attraction he felt to other man. That was why he could not be attracted to Draco, because he had all but stopped himself from being attracted to other people through his own guilt.

He couldn't be attracted to Draco, not one bit, because Draco was a decent guy (even if he hadn't been years ago – everyone could change) and he didn't want to ruin everything because of his own warped feelings. He would only scare Draco away, he knew that, so he tried not to think so much about him that afternoon, having finished lunch, and concentrated on his boring case notes.

It was because Draco had saved his life, yes, that was exactly it. That was the sole reason why he was thinking of him so much. Draco had done a noble thing and Harry made sure that he would thank the other man for that. There were absolutely no other reasons why Harry so wanted to see him again.

Though on that night, when Draco had saved his life and consequently cancelled out the debt that he supposedly owed Harry, Harry had been musing on the other man whilst sitting in a Muggle car, lent to him by the Ministry, and under a practically impenetrable disguise to make him look like a middle-aged, stubble-chinned, thoroughly tired looking Muggle man. It had been completely innocent at first, Harry merely thinking of the case. He was investigating a lead, located in a seemingly abandoned old warehouse in Manchester, about a renegade group of Voldemort supporters who were rumoured to be holding the last supplies of the aptly and simply named "Draught of Torture" that Voldemort himself had favoured during the war. He thought about how Draco himself had delivered the antidote to the horrible substance that very morning, looking shiningly proud of himself. He remembered Draco's genuine looking smile, one of the first Harry had ever seen, and the sparkle that lit up his usually conserved, cloudy grey eyes, lending a tinge of pure silver to them. He remembered Draco's slender fingers gripping the vial of pleasant looking antidote, their paleness matching its light colour, and the beautifully sculpted hand and arm they connected to. His torso, irritatingly hidden behind a plain black shirt, held open tantilizingly at the collar... his collar bone, how it looked carved out of marble...

Harry had to physically shake himself to resurface from the day dream that had taken a particularly embarrassing, sexual turn. He had a case to think of... he could not being thinking things like that, No - especially not about Draco Malfoy! What was he thinking? He blamed it on the monotony of spending hours in a car with no form of entertainment with him. (even a magazine would have looked suspicious, what with the moving Quidditch players likely to be on the cover) Still, that didn't give his mind the right to fantasize about a co-worker, a _male _co-worker at that. Those thoughts were definitely off limits.

So he watched the warehouse for movements of any sort with refreshed zeal, trying not even to blink too much for the fear of seeing pure, silver eyes behind his lids.

Then his phone had begun to buzz, and for a few moments Harry silently argued over whether to answer it or not. He decided he could, seeming as it would look perfectly normal for a Muggle man to be on the phone and he could still keep his eyes trained on the windows of the warehouse. He fished the thing out of his trouser pocket and answered, pressing the small, silver device to his ear.

"Hello? Harry speaking." He said, not even trying to keep his voice low, seeming as he had cast a subtle silencing charm over the entire vehicle.

"Harry," He recognized Ginny's voice straight away, "I don't know if this is a bad time..."

"No, no, it's fine," Harry tried to control his wavering voice - this was the first time they had spoken in a long while, "What's up?"

"I just..." Ginny paused, "I only wanted to chat really. We haven't spoken for too long now. We can still be friends right?"

"Of course," The smile on Harry's face was evident in his voice too, "That's what I've always wanted. You're like a sister to me." He held his tongue after that - would words such as this still hurt the girl he cherished so much?

"As I love you like a brother, now, Harry." She answered and he could have sighed in relief. "I have another thing to say actually..." She paused again, inexplicably hesitant sounding.

"Yes?" Harry did not have a clue what was coming, so braced himself.

"I'm getting married."

This had been one of many options. Harry liked this one the most, seeming as it did not concern him personally and that it made him feel ecstatically glad for her.

"Oh, Ginny, congratulations!" He exclaimed, doubly thankful for the silencing charm, "Who's the lucky guy?"

"Ah, you don't know him," Ginny admitted, "He's a muggle called Dylan Jones."

"Oh, wow, I really can't wait to meet him, Gin." Harry leaned back in his seat, relaxed, but still keeping his eyes on the dark windows of the building looming infront of him.

"Thanks, Harry... anyone in your life?" She asked, still hesitant. Harry sat forward again, his entire spine tensed.

"No." He kept the answer short so it was easier to control the trembles in his voice. He didn't have anyone, had not since the end of their engagement, but did not want Ginny to know this, of his overwhelming shame and guilt. They were meant to be talking happily of her impending marriage, not about him.

"Oh, Harry, are you still hung up on... being gay?" She asked, sounding genuinely disappointed in him. Harry heaved a sigh.

"It's not something I like to talk about."

"But it should be something fine! I'm fine with it now, in fact I feel guilty about not being more honest about what I knew-"

"You feel guilty?" Harry could not keep the edge off his words. "_You_ feel guilty?"

"Harry, I-"

"No, no, you don't have any reason to feel guilty. I'm the one who lied, I'm the sick one, I'm the one in the wrong, Gin. You have no reason to feel bad for what happened, everything was my fault." Harry's words each held a world's weight of bitter emphasis.

"Harry," Ginny sounded stern now, and faintly reminiscant of her mother, "Listen to me. Neither of us were in the wrong, in ways we were both to blame, but that's just how things worked out. You loved me, but you just hadn't figured out that it was platonic. I loved you romantically, so denied the truth because of my feelings. In the end it didn't work out, it never would have. So I've moved on, I've gotten over you, and now I have Dylan. And I want you to find someone, no matter which gender they are, and be happy too, because you bloody well deserve it."

Harry was speechless for a few moments... perhaps Ginny was right? He stared down at his knees, deep in thought. Perhaps it wasn't so wrong-?

Then the world had gone black.

"Harry...? Are you still there...? Harry...?!"

So his own feelings had gotten in the way for Harry again, this time nearly taking his life instead of ruining his marriage, they were nothing but trouble. He had to fight them down, concentrate instead on work and the other people who he loved, not sick fantasies and thoughts about a certain Malfoy, no matter how intoxicatingly pleasurable they proved to be. It just was not worth it...

* * *

One ticket to angst city, please, I don't know when I'll be returning to normal-land.

Stupid bus metaphors aside, what do you think so far? :)


	8. Lives Owed, Jealousy Abound

**Chapter 8 – Lives Owed, Jealousy Abound**

On the same Friday as Harry returned to work, Draco had plunged into hard work himself. There were three more cases in (all very sinister looking potions) and Draco concentrated on them as if his life depended on it, when in reality he was trying to distract himself from the very same life.

Astoria noticed nothing, for with Draco she mostly focused on how very beautiful he was (more beautiful than herself, she had to admit begrudgingly, but that was the Malfoys for you – her family, the Greengrasses, were a pureblood family themselves, but the Malfoys were quite legendary in the pureblood circles for their good looks) and not so much how stressed and tired he was looking nowadays.

Hermione however, always the observant one, had noticed very early on the signs that Draco was not happy at all. It began with the dark circles under his normally vibrant silver eyes, making them look dulled dark grey by exhaustion. Then there were the times when Draco thought that nobody was watching him and he let the dissatisfaction and sadness fill his face entirely, times when the careful indifference slipped away and revealed his true unhappiness. Hermione had to say something; it felt to her like her friend was wasting away.

"Draco, do you want to talk about anything?" She tried to keep her voice light and innocent, but could not help the worried tones from slipping in.

Draco looked up at her, his face made blank and emotionless.

"Why would there be anything to talk about?" He asked, mastering the fake happy tone much better than Hermione ever would be able to.

"You just..." Hermione searched for the right words tentatively; she'd never had a conversation like this with Draco before, "You've been looking really down lately."

Draco actually looked surprised by this remark. "I have?"

"Yes. I know you don't expect Astoria and I to notice and, well, maybe Astoria hasn't, but I have. You're not happy at all, are you?"

For a mere second Draco looked indecisive – was he about to say something? – but then his emotions were masked once more, telling Hermione clearly that he was not ready to talk about what it was bothering him.

"I'm perfectly fine, Hermione, there's nothing to talk about." With that he picked up the now clean cauldron on his desk and took it into the stock room. Evidently the conversation was over, so Hermione made her exit, hoping to find Ron in the Auror department so they could go home together.

Draco walked back into the room looking much less than happy, after making sure that she had left. Was he really that transparent now? No, he decided, it wasn't that, it was just Hermione noticing everything as she always did.

He let out a grunt of anger and kicked his desk for the sake of it, not caring how much it hurt his foot. He was still embroiled in this ridiculous fake relationship with Seamus (oh, yes, now Seamus was insisting that they were "together") and he could see no way out of it without his very tentative friendship with the man he really loved being completely ruined beyond return.

"What the hell am I going to do?" He soliloquised to himself loudly, frustrated, his voice drowning out the knock on the semi-open door to his office.

Harry tried knocking again.

Draco jumped and turned to see his interrupter, half obscured by the door. He would recognize the half of that face anywhere though and tried to fight the blush creeping up his neck onto his cheeks. Had Harry heard him?

"Erm... is this a bad time?" Harry's low voice asked and Draco mentally slapped himself; of course Harry had heard him yelling to himself. _Stupid stupid stupid Draco! Why must you lose control around this one person all the time?  
_

"No, no," Draco said, trying to compose himself again, "You can come in." Harry did so, shifting so that he was in Draco's full view and staying by the wall, as if uncomfortable about being there. Draco couldn't blame him; he had just kicked a desk and then shouted at thin air; he must have looked insane.

"What did you want to talk about?" Draco asked, his embarrassment and worry growing every second as further thoughts pushed into his mind: was Harry going to ask about why Draco had left so suddenly at the hospital? Was he going to get all close to him again and completely rob him of his senses? Even worse, had Hermione told him about any of his unhappiness and Harry, ever the Gryffindor, was he going to ask Draco about it?!

He was so busy thinking that he almost missed what Harry really said.

"... just wanted to thank you for saving my life." Harry was suddenly a lot closer than he had been before, Draco noticed, and he was holding his hand out as if to shake. Very polite, very masculine, very Harry. Draco took his hand, trying to contain himself from embracing him (which was very, very hard – all he wanted to do was bury his face into Harry's neck, but that would not go down well.)

"It, it was nothing really." Draco stammered after they had broken the shake. Harry simply smiled at him, making Draco want to sigh in pleasure.

"It was everything to me," Harry said back, as if to correct him, "I owe you my life now."

"And I owe you mine, don't forget that."

"What do you...? Oh." Comprehension dawned on Harry's face; you could see by the tender sadness there that he was remembering the night of the Battle. "No, no, that wasn't anything really-"

"Now who's the one denying things?" Draco murmured and Harry had to laugh.

"I guess so. Well, technically I've cancelled out my debt then..."

"You're wrong. I will always owe you my life."

Harry simply blinked, taken aback by the abrupt strength of Draco's words, as did Draco himself. (Since when had he talked with such emotion out of the blue like that?)

"Okay," Harry said, regaining himself, "then I will always owe you my life too, Draco." His words held the same brevity of seriousness and, for a few seconds, all they did was stare at each other. Draco felt as if the longer he stared the harder it would be to finally look away. Little did he know that Harry was feeling the exact same way.

Draco dimly registered that Harry's hand was moving, enticingly towards him, up and forwards to his face. It seemed like the normal thing to do, even though it had never happened before, and Draco took no notice. He was so used to loving Harry that it just made sense.

Harry, however, had no idea what he was doing and why he was doing it. His hand seemed to be pulled, as if magnetically attracted to the face of the young man standing before him, his former enemy, his new acquaintance, perhaps even a friend. _The man you're attracted to now..._

It had nearly reached its achingly desired destination when a cough came from the door. Harry's hand, aborting its mission, was back hanging at his side within a second. Then eye contact broke as Draco turned to see who was now at his office door.

It was Seamus.

Draco stammered, no coherent words reaching his lips, and then tried to bustle past Seamus at the door. Seamus didn't let him though, grabbing him roughly and forcing him into a hug.

"I thought I'd come and visit you," his voice was controlled but sounded less than pleased, "seeming as I love to see you."

Draco simply nodded, frozen in the embrace, wishing very much that Harry had not been there to see it. He then squirmed so Seamus let him go. With that, and one apologetic look back at Harry, he left as fast as he could with a "I have to go. See you later." He could have been talking to either of them.

"Harry Potter." Seamus said quietly and with what sounded like speculation and Harry immediately felt extremely uncomfortable.

"Since when were we on full-name terms?" Harry asked lightly, trying to sound much less guilty and concerned than he was. So Draco and Seamus _were _together in that way... he had had an inkling of it when Seamus had requested to talk to Draco at the Sleepy Owl... but still, there hadn't really been signs... and why did he feel so guilty anyway? It wasn't as if he was really going to touch Draco, no, it was just a mistaken thought that had taken longer than usual to correct. That was all it had been.

"Since now, as far as I'm concerned." Seamus spat at him, having gone from calm to livid in a matter of seconds.

"Seamus, mate," Harry said, frowning, "what's up?"

"I could ask the same thing," Seamus replied icily, "seeming as you were just with my Draco."

_My _Draco? Harry was quite sure Draco wouldn't appreciate being talked about in that way; he seemed too independent and sure of himself to be 'owned' by somebody else.

"We were only talking," Harry defended himself. "Why, is Draco not allowed to talk to other people now?" Harry had always thought of Seamus as quite unpredictable at times, but this was just so different to how Seamus was normally. He had seen the man in relationships before and never had he seemed so jealous and covetous of the other person before Draco.

Well, Draco was a reformed person now, intelligent, funny, still slightly haughty but incredibly good looking... Harry stopped himself there.

"I don't mind him talking to most people..." Seamus dragged out the silence, clearly enjoying this turn in the conversation, "Just not you."

"What were you talking about anyway?" Seamus asked his next question as if prompted by his last words, his tone now taking a much more jealous turn.

"Oh," Harry stalled (Seamus would not have been happy with their topic of conversation, he seemed to think), "Just some stuff about work..."

That was technically true; Draco had saved his life due to the antidote he had been working on all that day. Harry just hoped that his answer would placate Seamus and not anger him further. If Seamus' expression was anything to go by, he had said the complete wrong thing.

"That's a lie!" He shouted, shutting the door behind him with an ominous slam. "I heard what you just said to him – that you'll always owe Draco your life! I can't believe it, telling him crap like that..."

"I meant every word." Harry cut in defensively, not liking the insinuation that he had been lying to Draco.

Seamus bristled, his anger such a force now that it seemed tangible, and for the first time ever Harry felt wary of his normally good-natured Irish friend.

"You're just trying to get his hopes up aren't you?" Seamus asked, his voice dangerous and low, and now Harry was not only wary but completely confused too.

"What?"

"You just... you're so determined to hurt him aren't you, you stubborn bastard?"

Harry tried to say something, but his confusion jarred his brain. Where was this conversation going, exactly? It appeared that Seamus had taken Harry's silence as confirmation to his bizarre questions.

"I knew it! You just can't get over your hatred of Draco, can you?" Seamus burst out, triumphant and disgusted in his findings. "That's why you lied to him, that's why you're acting so nice to him... trying to pull him in... just so you can-"

"I don't hate Draco!" Harry was irate himself now; what was Seamus talking about and why was he assuming drastic things like that? Harry truthfully had not felt hatred towards Draco Malfoy for years: ever since the night of Dumbledore's death, seeing Draco unwilling to kill even if it would cost his own life, the hate had simply melted away. In fact, upon meeting Draco again, he liked the other man. (He wouldn't admit in how many ways he liked Draco... but he did like him.)

Seamus grabbed the front of Harry's jacket and shoved him into the wall. Harry could have defended himself, but for one it was an Auror's duty not to fight the innocent, and he still hoped that Seamus had not changed so drastically that he would actually try to hurt Harry. It seemed he hadn't; he simply held Harry to the wall before carrying on his fury-filled speech.

"You will stay away from Draco from now on, you hear me?" His eyes were dancing dangerously, so Harry thought it unwise to argue. "You don't deserve even his company, so I won't let you have it. I won't let you hurt him." With that Seamus let him go and stormed out, leaving a bewildered and anxious Harry in his wake.

Why did Seamus think that Harry was trying to hurt Draco? And how exactly would he be hurting him?

Harry knew, there and then, that he really didn't want to hurt Draco at all; all the feelings of dislike (mutual, of course) he had felt for the man in the past had completely evaporated and now he had no reason to insult of offend the other man, if that's what Seamus meant by hurting him. He had no reason to fight or duel Draco either, if Seamus was referring to physical pain (though Harry doubted this.)

Realizing that he was still standing in Draco's empty office, Harry shook himself and left. He had a lot of thinking to do, it seemed, and now more than ever Draco Malfoy was the prominent person on his mind.

* * *

A/N: Ooh la la, Seamus is turning into a right ole' bitch, isn't he?

I love distorting the personalities of more minor characters like that - the possibilities are endless!


	9. Loneliness Crushing

**Chapter 9 – Loneliness Crushing**

Draco had only turned up at the Sleepy Owl that Saturday night because Seamus had ordered him to (he had to accept with a certain amount of chagrin – he was not used to being ordered around, but desperate times called for desperate measures.) So there he was, sitting next to the very man, who was grasping his hand and keeping him close at all times whilst they sat at what seemed to be the group's perfunctory table.

Seamus occasionally leaned in and whispered little meaningless words into Draco's ear, most of which either disturbed or irritated him, that or planted seemingly secretive kisses onto his neck and cheek, none of which Draco responded to.

The man Draco loved was nowhere to be seen.

However, he did have Hermione sitting the other side to him, so at least he could embroil himself in decent conversation with her (and with sometimes annoying input from her fiancé, though Draco was used to him now) and used this to try and edge inconspicuously away from Seamus (none of his attempts so far coming to any avail.)

Everyone else at the table had been surprised at first by his and Seamus' closeness, but then accepted it in their good natured way (everyone else being all the people present at Draco's first visit to the Sleepy Owl minus Neville and Luna, who were having dinner with Luna's father, Xenophilius, and Harry, which Draco didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed about.)

The evening was dragging on, slowly turning from eight o' clock to nine o' clock, nine o' clock to ten o' clock...

Draco had made Firewhisky his staple drink for the night and, after many flaming shots of it, was certainly feeling the alcohol sloshing throughout his system. Soon everything around him began to blur, the cheerful yellow lights turning into streaks of disconcerting gold and everyone around him smudging when they moved.

He did not care that Seamus' arm was now flung around his waist, he could barely feel it there because of the drink and the empty feeling of numb sorrow that was slowly making its way through his entire body. The emptiness inside him was choking in its oppressive, intangible, meaningless weight and he knew that the space inside him, one of longing and despair, could only belong to and be filled by Harry, not Seamus.

The very person he was thinking of, always thinking of, actually did turn up at the pub at around ten thirty, looking ill at ease even being there. He walked slowly towards the table of his friends, choosing a seat at the end, next to Theodore Nott. He knew that with Theo he would not have to make unnecessary conversation, which was a relief.

"I'm going to the bar," the Unspeakable addressed him in his quiet, clear voice, "Can I get you anything?"

"A glass of Goblins' and Coke, if you will." Harry replied, referring to a popular mixer of _Goblins' Best Triple Distilled _vodka with _Coca Cola_, a Muggle drink gaining rapid popularity in the wizarding world.

Theo then walked to the bar, leaving Harry on his own at the now half-empty table. He had passed Hannah and Ernie at the door, on their way out somewhere else, and he assumed that Ron and Hermione had gone out to the garden as they often did when the pub got very full and they wanted some peace and quiet together. That left him with Draco (who he could not talk to in front of Seamus), Seamus himself (who Harry really didn't want to talk to) and Dean (who happened to already be in conversation with Seamus.) _Bugger, _he thought to himself whilst staring resolutely at the table, frowning as if it had caused all of his most recent problems.

Harry hadn't even wanted to go out in the first place that night, still shaken up by his argument with Seamus, but not going out with his friends would have been hassle anyway: mostly from Hermione, who would doubtless check on him constantly afterwards and chastise him for not going out and socialising (he knew that it was out of concern – for a while after the Battle, and then after breaking it off with Ginny, Harry had been in a huge mess and was only beginning to go out again nowadays – but it did get annoying.)

Also, though he felt bad even admitting it to himself, he had really wanted to see Draco, just see him, even if for a little while.

From what he had seen of the other man, Draco looked as unhappy as Harry himself felt. He was quite clearly drunk, if the amount of glasses surrounding him were anything to go by, and he looked vacant, mentally detached from his every surrounding. It looked as if he hadn't even noticed Seamus' arm wrapped around him, or the other man's kisses or embraces, acting as if nothing was happening at all. Harry had noticed these things though and it made his insides bubble with anger.

_No, jealousy_, the little voice of desire whispered, but he blocked it out quite easily due to many years of practice. He was only concerned for his friend, he reminded himself, savouring the idea that he counted Draco as a friend now. He would never have even thought about something like this back when he and Draco had been at school; they were always too busy fighting. The younger Harry would have been shocked at how they got along now, Harry knew that for sure. But Draco had changed, and so had he, so for his present self it was not such a shocking idea.

Seamus had noticed Harry, yes, and had held Draco tighter in a smug way as reaction, but Harry didn't think that Draco had noticed him yet due to being in what looked like a sad, drunken trance. Harry cursed bitterly that he could do nothing for his sadness, what with Seamus being there, and he felt completely helpless in that moment.

Draco looking up and locking eyes with him distracted him from the thoughts. It seemed that, upon making eye contact, life began to come back to his whole being and he was moving, looking, expressing again. At first he was surprised, and then he smiled, causing warmth to flood through Harry at the mere sight of it.

Similar warmth had enveloped Draco on seeing Harry: _So I can see him, at least. _He and Harry simply stared at each other for a few moments before an angry prod from Seamus in Draco's direction put a stop to it. Harry carried on looking, only looking away when Theo brought him his drink, which he accepted with a mumbled thank you. Theo looked on the scene with what appeared to be understanding in his eyes, although Harry had no idea what he had to understand. Then his brain went into overload: _Has he guessed why I'm really here? Does he understand the feelings that I barely understand myself? Is it an Unspeakable thing to see what isn't so obvious – or what I hope isn't so obvious – that others don't?_

Because of his fretting thoughts he didn't notice the look that Draco and Theo exchanged, Draco looking pleading and Theo looking troubled and pitying. Then, without another word, he gave a short tilt of his head in the direction of the garden and walked out there. Draco was not slow to follow, making an excuse about needing the bathroom (it was a relief that the Men's bathroom happened to be close to the door leading to the garden...)

That left Harry feeling even more awkward with Seamus and Dean. At least Seamus wasn't paying any attention to him, instead talking with Dean again. Harry chose instead to down his drink (Draco wasn't the only one wanting to drink away his sorrows that night.)

Draco edged out into the garden, waiting for his vision to adjust to the darkness before attempting to find the illusive Nott. It so happened that Nott did the work for him, taking his arm and walking him to one otherwise unused corner of the dark lawn. The only other people out there were Hermione and Ron, sitting on one of the benches at the end of the garden, which reminded Draco painfully of Harry's carefree laughter, their short conversation, which seemed like such a long time ago.

"So you're with Finnegan now?" Nott asked, his tone even lower and quieter than usual, and he didn't sound at all fooled by any of it, so Draco didn't feel the need to lie to him.

"No, I'm being blackmailed by him." He felt some of the weight on his shoulders immediately lift, just on confessing his problem, and he could just see Nott nodding slowly in the dark night, working things out.

"So, basically, Finnegan somehow knows about how you feel for Harry and is using it against you?"

"Yes." The single word was barely audible and choked, Draco feeling relieved that at least he had one person left to confess everything to, in the form of his old friend Nott, Unspeakable, keeper of many secrets, the most mysterious man in the whole of the Ministry. Nott would take all his secrets to the grave, weighed willingly into death by all of of his discretions.

"Well, I thought that Finnegan was a mistake-" Nott voiced the words Draco had already heard and Draco cut him off.

"I know, I know, it was a major mistake, but even you couldn't have thought that circumstances would be as drastic as this." Draco let irritation fill his voice; anything was better than sounding like he was about to cry, which he sort of was.

"No, I didn't think that he would grow so obsessed by you," Draco shivered, he knew that now all too well, "but he has, so we're just going to have to figure this out somehow."

Draco appreciated how Theo never mentioned the obvious – about telling Harry how he really felt – because Nott never pressured people into anything, which was just his way. Nott respected what Draco wanted and if Draco didn't want to tell Harry about it now, if ever, then that way okay.

"I'm assuming that you don't feel the same way about Seamus," Draco nodded fervently, "so you won't want to stay with him. But you don't want him to tell Harry about how you feel, so you can't leave him either..." He was silenced into his own thoughts.

Draco felt that this wasn't good; usually Theo could work things out like this within seconds using his immense logical brain. He did suppose, though, that this was a rather delicate situation and a lot of emotion was involved that impeded the logic.

"Well, I'm not saying that you tell Harry outright, but perhaps drop hints and see how he responds?" Seeing Draco's uncomfortable look, he persevered. "Look, I know that you're afraid of rejection, but I think that it's now or never – if you don't ever try to see how he feels, even if subtlety, you will regret it forever. So I think the first step is not about trying to get away from Seamus so much, but trying to get closer to Harry. I mean, he's the important one to you, isn't he?"

Draco agreed with his words, albeit with some preservations, but the problem with Seamus was still in his mind.

"But Seamus has forbidden me from seeing him – and he's much more observant and devious than you'd first think. It's a mystery how he was sorted into Gryffindor. How will I even get time to drop hints at Harry if he's always around?"

"Come on, Draco!" For once Theo sounded less than calm, a rare side to him that only people close to him like Draco ever saw. "You were housed in Slytherin, remember? Surely you can come up with lies and ploys convincing enough to ditch him. I know this must be distressing for you-"

"Even though I landed myself in the whole thing-" Draco interjected suddenly.

"We all make mistakes. Like I was saying, it must be distressing, but don't let that stop you from playing from your strengths, Draco." With that Theo patted him on the shoulder and Draco immediately felt better.

He may be in a bad situation, but he would figure it all out (with Theo's help, obviously, he had been there from the beginning – who else would procure Harry's hairs for the Polyjuice Potion?)

For now he would just have to deal with Seamus, with everything, and concentrate on the small flicker of hope kindled inside of him. Hope that, despite the mess he was in, perhaps he still had a chance with Harry. Perhaps.

Draco went back to Seamus' apartment that night to further unwillingly expose himself to somebody who wasn't Harry, but vowed to think of Harry and his new found hope the entire time.

Harry went back to his own empty apartment that night and lay alone in bed, trying to ignore the keening thoughts that he wished that Draco were laying next to him. He thought about Draco that entire night, even once asleep, in his dreams.

* * *

A/N: So the plot thickens :) I actually quite like Nott in this story. Most of the time he's portrayed as *cough* not-very-nice in fics. Love it? Hate it? Review! :)

Thank you very much Abril dark angel, Sapphire Onyx, black sniperX, Tarkemelhion and LesMiserables lover for the latest reviews! :D


	10. A Kiss Unattained

**Chapter 10 – A Kiss Unattained**

The next week, and the week after, the fleeting, unsatisfying meeting at the Sleepy Owl, Draco and Harry barely saw each other.

Draco did recall one, brief sight of the other man as he was going home from the Ministry (for one night he wasn't being coerced into sleeping at Seamus' apartment, something that he was greatly thankful for) but unfortunately Harry had only just turned up and he was already flooing away, so the glimpse was hazy and far too short.

It seemed that this fact directly affected both Harry and Draco's moods, and Hermione noted this fact about both of them. She knew that Draco was unhappy because of his new relationship but for once she did not know what was going on with Harry. She did, however, think of these two facts as separate so could never have pieced it together that Draco and Harry were sad because of missing each other. She understood that Draco certainly cared for Harry, but she did not begin to speculate that it could be a two-way occurrence.

Draco admitted the source of his misery fully to himself, having known about his feelings for years and knowing that lying about it internally would get him nowhere. Harry was doing the absolute opposite and was making a fine art of blocking out his own feelings, which would only depress him anyway.

So why did he still feel so depressed?

He pondered this one Tuesday morning whilst walking down an otherwise empty corridor (which was a rare thing for such a people-filled building, but Harry welcomed the peace.) Since it was his lunch break and he had nothing else to do, he leaned against a wall and promptly slid down it, landing with a thump on the carpeted corridor floor. He sighed contentedly, something about sitting down low to the ground was so comforting. He stared into space, thinking of nothing in particular.

So caught up in thinking about nothing, (or, more truthfully, about Draco, but he was always, always thinking about Draco, albeit in the most detached, innocent way he could manage) he didn't notice the only other person now in the corridor until they sat down next to him, sliding down the wall just as he did but with much more grace.

"Harry." He heard his now favourite voice in the world speak his name and he looked up into stormy, harrowed grey eyes. He certainly had a tired, hunted look about him, and Harry immediately felt a surge of empathy for the other man. Did it have something to do with Seamus? Harry had no doubt that it did, but could not really ask, no matter how burning his curiosity and concern.

"Draco." He replied, his voice sounding much higher than it usually did. Draco chuckled.

"You sound as if you thought I was a ghost." He observed, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"You do look rather pale..." Harry fought to keep the worry concealed in his voice.

"I'm always pale." Draco said hurriedly, looking away but then back again, as if drawn to Harry's eyes (wishful thinking, Harry chided himself.)

"I know, I meant paler than usual." Harry said, taking the opportunity to study Draco's face, seeming as it had not been so near him for weeks and weeks. There were definite dark circles under his eyes, which were so much more dull than normal, and he had a defeated look about him that was not quite hidden, which was strange for a man who was usually the master of his own emotions.

"Think nothing of it." Draco replied, as if automatically. Did he always have to lie about how he really felt? Or was it just a reaction now? It made Harry feel disappointed that Draco couldn't admit to anything like that, though he soon realized this was hypocritical: when was the last time Harry had talked to somebody about how he felt about anything? He could not even remember.

"I'm always thinking about it." Harry blurted out before he could stop himself. At least he had said _it_ instead of _you_, he offered himself as comfort. It didn't help.

Draco's cheeks coloured a bit at least.

"What do you mean?"

"Think nothing of it."

"Hey," Draco poked Harry in the arm, "don't steal my line!"

Harry shook his head and smiled, glancing sideways at Draco. _Typical. _Draco merely laughed at his serious look, but shut up when Harry shoved him hard enough that he fell sideways, much more ungraceful than usual, Harry noted smugly.

Draco got up slowly; his was expression disgruntled, but then shoved Harry back out of nowhere and even harder. This resumed for a while, neither wanting to give in, and Harry keeping thoughts of how nice it was to laugh with Draco, touch him, at the back of his mind. Draco thought about it openly; how Harry grew even more attractive when he smiled, the way his hands felt against Draco, how much in physical contact they were... he didn't want to stop this silly shoving match for the world.

Eventually, both now sprawled on the floor, they stopped and resumed normal conversation again. If anyone else were in that corridor they would have seen two young men acting like Hogwarts' students enjoying a break from lessons.

"Well..." Draco sounded awkward for a moment, something Harry hadn't really heard before, "Thank you, now that I think about it."

"For what?"

"For thinking about me." Draco stated, not exasperated like he would have sounded years ago, but patient and intense as he stared at Harry. Harry returned the gaze, feeling himself getting disoriented in the silver that had returned to Draco's eyes, and then the feelings he had kept locked away leaped unbidden to the forefront of his thoughts.

He admitted to himself how incredibly attracted he was to Draco and how whenever he was around this man he wanted to touch him, embrace him, kiss him. It didn't feel purely sexual though, as it had with the other men Harry had found himself attracted to since coming out of the closet, he also found himself feeling deeply caring towards Draco too. He didn't just want Draco; he wanted to _be _with Draco. And the idea of not having these feelings returned made his heart want to shatter.

The most prominent thought in his mind was about kissing him and realizing how very close their faces were just then. Giving in to his senses, to his newly accounted feelings, he leaned in tentatively, still afraid of rejection (perhaps Draco really did love Seamus, though Harry hoped he didn't, really hoped...)

He felt a fierce stab in his heart when suddenly Draco was removed from being next to him, one moment there in all his being and then too far away, leaving nothing but cold air and a longing absence. It reminded Harry strongly of the night Draco had abruptly Apparated away from St. Mungo's. He felt the same disappointment then that he did now, although not as strongly.

"Sorry, I just realized," he heard Draco flounder for words but his voice sounded distant to Harry, "My lunch break is nearly over. I should be getting back to the office..."

With that he hurried away, leaving Harry wanting to bang his head against the wall, though he hadn't the willpower to move a muscle from his shame just yet, let alone do that. What had he been thinking?!

Of course Draco would not have wanted that kiss. Draco was in a relationship. With Seamus. Which reminded him, he wasn't even meant to be talking to Draco (which he still thought of as ridiculous) let alone kissing him. He had tried to kiss somebody else's partner...

Feeling inexorably guilty, Harry rose slowly and resumed his walk of the Ministry's many corridors, all the time repeatedly telling himself off. Why had he done it? He had ruined everything with Draco now, he was so sure of it.

* * *

Draco spent the other half of his lunch break in Blaise's office, sitting opposite his friend the serene, thoughtful Obliviator.

Blaise had heard about Draco's new relationship and, rather like Hermione, had noted all the negative changes in Draco's appearance and actions. He had noticed the flickers of deep sadness that occasionally shadowed across his face, the way he now slumped instead of sitting upright and the emptiness now prominent in his voice. It concerned him more than he let on, as it always was with Blaise.

_Whatever or whoever Draco is pursuing now, it certainly isn't Seamus Finnegan. He isn't happy. He isn't succeeding._

"So you're with Seamus?" He didn't try to keep his voice casual; Blaise didn't like lying, his job involved so much of it in erasing memories, so he usually never bothered when it came to his friends. He just chose to keep certain things to himself, that wasn't so much lying, more withholding opinion.

"Yes." Replied Draco stiffly, with none of the usual pride or happiness that usually accompanied somebody admitting to a new relationship. Whereas with Nott Draco knew he could be open, with Blaise he felt slightly more guarded. Even though both friends were Slytherins, Nott always very neutral and Blaise very opinionated. With Nott Draco could be himself, but with Blaise he was guarded as habit so his ego would not be wounded.

"And you're not happy with him." It was a statement. Draco was in no mood to argue, so he just sighed and sank lower into his seat. At least he hadn't admitted anything himself. "It seems you understand that I know you too well for you to hide things from me."

Draco gave a humourless laugh. Blaise didn't know his deepest secret, involving one Harry Potter. Only he, Nott and unfortunately Seamus knew that, as far as he knew.

"You just tell yourself that, Blaise." His rebuke was half-hearted and contained none of his usual wit or even disdain. "In fact, Hermione Granger was grilling me about unhappiness the other day..."

"Was she?" Blaise's interest perked up noticeably at this new piece of gossip. "I heard that you two were getting close - not that you bother to tell me any of these things." Blaise's chastisement was simply teasing; he knew that Draco was usually secretive and guarded when it came to things that mattered to him emotionally. He knew that Hermione Granger's friendship mattered to Draco simply because Draco had not mentioned it to him, ironically enough. Blaise would have to talk to her... if she was anything like Blaise was concerning Draco, she would be worried. Not that Blaise would ever admit that to Draco himself; Blaise's pride would be at stake!

"Well, if you ever feel like talking about how unhappy you are, and who you want to make you happy," Blaise raised an eyebrow when Draco blinked, unsure, at him, "yes, I've gathered there's someone else, not that I know who it is... well, I want to know. You understand how nosy I am."

With that Draco got up, giving Blaise one last appraising look.

"Bloody Blaise..." He muttered, but now with more humour, as he walked unceremoniously out of the office. Blaise chuckled to himself before returning to his work.

He doubted that Draco would talk to him, but perhaps, with all of the positive changes that had happened to Draco so far, talking about his feelings would perhaps be one of them. Blaise just hoped that, if not him, the other man would talk to the right person about how he felt...

* * *

A/N: I just had to have Blaise in this story because he's just epic :D Yeah, I know, he's a really minor character in the story, but with a name like that... You just can't ignore him.

And two updates in a day! Whoa! XD Thanks Nenne and Idina Malfoy for the latest comments :)


	11. Pivotal Conversations

**Chapter 11 – Pivotal Conversations**

Ron Weasley had been noticing a lot of things recently. One was that they had stopped selling Shepard's Pie in the cafeteria, which was a crying shame. The second thing was that his fiancée, Hermione, was now a close friend to Draco Malfoy, a man who, up until recently, he had heavily disliked at best. Thirdly, he had noticed how very unhappy the very same man was in his relationship with Seamus Finnegan, a man who he had secretly disliked for a long time.

The most prominent discovery though, which made Ron feel both confused and enlightened, was how said relationship was affecting his best friend.

And Ron, having not lost his bluntness despite his sudden increase in observation and working things out quickly lately, decided that it was high time he brought it up with Harry, because he didn't like watching his friend's mood deteriorate day by day.

It was a quiet day in the Auror's office, and only Ron and Harry happened to be there. So Ron decided to take the opportunity, abandoning all pretences because that just wasn't his thing.

"Harry, what's been up with you?" He asked, plonking himself down on the edge of Harry's desk and disturbing a small pile of papers, which Harry grabbed at futilely as they fell before sighing.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He said resignedly, getting up to retrieve the papers. Ron stopped him by grasping his shoulder.

"Yes you do, you've been acting as if you've just been diagnosed with terminal dragon pox. And stop denying it, because I know you too well."

Harry sighed again. "Just because you know that I'm not exactly overjoyed with everything at the moment doesn't mean I have to talk about it."

Ron bit his lip, thinking for a moment. What tact would he take now? He decided to stick with bluntness... Well, honesty is the best policy.

"Is it about Malfoy?" He had the desired effect: Harry flinched, almost guiltily, at his words and stared at him.

"What...?" He didn't even finish this sentence, frowning as if beaten and looking down at his desk again in defeat. Ron inhaled deeply; he really did love his friend, though he would be pained to admit something so soppy, but sometimes he was very difficult. Especially when it came to his romantic life – since Ginny Harry had not been with anyone and Ron did worry about this sometimes.

"How did you know?" Harry spoke again, evidently feeling that he had been cornered enough into admitting something.

"Well," Ron said, not without a hint of pride, "For once I think I've worked out something quicker than Hermione."

"And why do you think it's about Draco?" Harry asked, still sounding guarded. Ron knew it was a touchy subject from what he had concluded, so he let it pass.

"Well, for starters, you call him by his first name, which to me signifies that you at least don't dislike him. Also, the times that you ask after him to Hermione have further fuelled my suspicions." Ron was in full detective mode, listing out all the facts.

"Also it helps that I..." a sheepish look flickered across his features, "I know you're gay."

"You er – what?" Harry stammered, gripping his desk for support. "How?"

"Ginny told me about it."

"Oh." Harry looked crestfallen; so more people knew of his shame than even he had thought.

"Only me though!" Ron elaborated quickly. "I just happened to be home the night when you broke up and she flooed home in a bit of a state. She just needed somebody to talk to and I haven't told anybody since, even Hermione."

"I see." Harry said. Ron could see the humiliation and regret dancing in his green eyes.

"You did the right thing, mate," Ron said, "I'd rather have you break it off than live in an unhappy marriage. I wouldn't wish that on either you or Ginny."

"If I wasn't... the way I am, then it wouldn't have been a sham." Harry sounded bitter now; Ron hadn't seen him anything but solemn or calm for a long while now, so in a strange way it was almost refreshing. At least he was showing emotion for once. Unexpected words sprang from Ron's mouth.

"It's okay to be who you are, Harry, and if being gay is a part of you... then that's okay too."

"You think so?" Barely concealed hope shone through Harry's voice, this emotion even more refreshing than the bitterness, and in a more positive way.

"Yeah." Ron assured him. "I accepted it a long time ago."

Harry's heart lifted as he felt a surge of freedom and joy from his best friend's words. Ron, who he had thought least likely to understand this part of him, had accepted it even before Harry himself had. At least that was something.

"So do you really... fancy Malfoy?" Ron asked tentatively and Harry knew that he wasn't off the hook just yet.

"_Fancy. _You make it sound like we're back at Hogwarts again." Harry laughed.

"But do you?" Ron persisted and Harry relented enough to give one, solitary nod. "And do you reckon Malfoy knows about it?"

"Well, no... up until recently." Harry looked anywhere but at Ron. Ron's eyebrows slowly rose as he comprehended what Harry had said and his eyes bulged slightly.

"Recently?"

"Well... I..." Harry's face began to flush, "I tried to kiss him."

"Wow," Ron actually sounded impressed and less disgusted than Harry had imagined he would, "that must have taken courage."

"Well, it was a stupid thing to do. As soon as I tried he made an excuse and hurried off." Harry sounded hopeless again, which wasn't what Ron wanted at all.

"Well, he's with Seamus, isn't he?" Ron pointed out. "Although I don't think Malfoy's happy with him..."

Harry frowned, but he had definitely perked up a bit, no longer slouched over his desk. "Why do you think that?"

"Take Malfoy's first night at the Sleepy Owl as example. When you and him had been talking in the garden Seamus saw you both and suddenly stormed outside. Then, when I went into the garden a few minutes later he was arguing with Malfoy over something. Seamus had even grabbed him by the shirt and everything." Ron noted how Harry bristled with anger at this information. "And now, whenever I see them together Malfoy looks really, really unhappy. I don't think his heart's in that relationship."

"I've been thinking about that too." Harry admitted, impressed by how Ron had pieced together everything like that, even if it was slightly unnerving (being an Auror had certainly made him more logical and observant, not to mention his being around Hermione a lot having helped him become more aware of other people's emotions.)

"You know what I think? I think his heart belongs to you." Ron didn't care how corny it sounded; he just wanted to get his point across.

"You're joking, Ron," Harry said, but he could not deny that his heart was now hammering and his breath quickening.

"I'm far from joking. Remember when Malfoy was at St. Mungo's on the night you got poisoned?" Harry nodded. "Well, you might not have seen it when you were awake – he's good at hiding things – but when you were unconscious... it was the way he looked at you."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, the question feeling tired out. All he seemed to be doing was asking questions, when the conversation was mostly about him.

"He was staring at you the whole time me and Hermione were there with you and, just once I saw it briefly: it was as clear as day on his face just how he felt, sitting right by your bedside. He was worried, distraught, upset. It looked like he was straining not to reach out and grab your hand.

"He loves you." Ron concluded.

_He loves you_, Harry's inner voice echoed, _and that's what you've wanted for a while now, haven't you?_

"What about Seamus?" Harry forced himself to carry on talking, trying to ignore the feeling of nifflers scurrying around in his stomach.

"Forget about him. I always thought he was a git anyway." Ron said plainly and Harry rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

"True. There's still one mystery though," He observed, "and that is why Draco rejected me when I tried to kiss him." He could not deny the thrill that went through him as he spoke words such as this, discussing something so casually that he had never spoken about before in fear of being shunned for them.

"Well..." Ron pondered, "Maybe he just freaked out? Or perhaps he thought that a kiss would make him admit things to you that he thinks you don't want to hear. I mean, for all he knew you could have just been experimenting, that or trying to trick him."

"I wasn't." Harry said indignantly.

"I know that, I was just saying." Ron shook his head, smirking at his huffy looking friend.

"Sorry."

"I reckon you should go after him." Ron said, getting back on subject. "Malfoy looks like he needs saving right now and I'm sure as hell not doing it."

Harry laughed, this time heartily, and it made Ron's chest bubble with relief. His Harry was back again, not the empty shell that his friend had been for the past... well, he didn't even want to think how long Harry had slowly been losing himself.

"I'll think about that."

With that, a couple of Aurors burst into the office and Ron stood up from the desk: evidently their conversation was over. At least he had been able to say all he had wanted to say and Harry was looking a lot happier as he actually managed to retrieve the fallen papers and started scanning through them.

Harry was definitely thinking about it, about what Ron had said, about Draco, especially about Draco. Somehow, with his best friend backing him up, his little dream of being with Draco didn't seem so out of reach.

That's friendship for you.

* * *

Hermione was on her lunch break when Blaise Zabini approached her quite out of the blue.

"Hello-" she began, covering up her surprise with politeness, but Blaise was evidently not in the mood for such pleasantries.

"So you're friends with Draco?" He asked, sitting down opposite her as he spoke. His deep voice paired with his endlessly deep, dark eyes gave an impressive calming effect. Hermione mused that he would make a good mind-healer from appearance only, even if his question was obtrusive and not very subtle. He meant business, so Hermione kept on her guard.

"I would say so, yes." She replied and said no more, waiting for him to get to his point. How was she to know that her friendship with Draco angered Blaise? It seemed far-fetched, but Zabini had always been a hard person to read, even back at school.

"I see." Blaise carried on in business tones. Hermione felt as if she were about to be obliviated after giving the necessary information. "Have you noticed anything... odd... about him recently?"

A flash of concern, a slight crease on his features, made him far more trustworthy and Hermione relaxed. He was just a concerned friend, exactly like her. Here was somebody who knew Draco well and who she could talk to.

"Yes, I have," she nodded, "he's been looking really... depressed lately. It appears that he hasn't been sleeping well, he's been getting more and more quiet-"

"A strange thing in itself." Blaise added and they both laughed affectionately about their friend. Draco usually always had something to say.

"I think it may have something to do with his relationship with Seamus, it's all gone downhill from there." She mused and Blaise nodded gravely in agreement.

"I think he's in love with somebody else." He said and Hermione's eyes lit up in understanding.

"I do too! And I have an idea on who it is..." She noticed Blaise leaning forward – ah, so this was what he was after! "Unless you do as well?"

Blaise leant back and crossed his arms, appraising her. "I'll be honest, for once, that I have little idea of who it could be, Granger, though I had my suspicions about there being someone else."

"Please, call me Hermione," She smiled. "And I know it sounds strange but... I think Draco truly wants Harry. I wouldn't have thought it myself before seeing him around Harry... the signs are there." She shrugged, also leaning back in her chair.

"It's possible." Blaise contemplated. "Your department works closely with the Auror's department, does it not? That means they would be spending time around each other... and Merlin knows they were amusingly obsessed with each other at Hogwarts – always arguing, fighting, trying to find out the what one another was up to."

Hermione sighed, "I remember that all too well."

"And Harry saved Draco's life." Blaise said after a few seconds and it was as if, for both of them, the pieces of the puzzle had charmed themselves into place.

"Of course," Hermione said, "I remember that too. In the Room of Requirement. Draco, until that point, had treated Harry as badly as he could, but Harry had still saved his life. Draco, a Death Eater. Draco, supposedly supporting the very man who wanted Harry dead. Draco, the complete polar opposite to Harry. Yet Harry still saved him."

"And nobody else had really shown that level of compassion to Draco before. Hell, I don't know if even Draco's own father would have risked his own life in that fire just to save Draco." Blaise was staring hard at the lunch table between them. "It just makes sense now."

"And..." Hermione began tentatively, "Harry has been very down himself recently. In fact, I haven't seen him this upset since he broke it off with Ginny. And he hasn't been with anybody since Ginny... that always struck me as odd."

"Maybe he has something to be ashamed about." Blaise interjected, reading the feeling in Hermione's eyes.

"But that's ridiculous!" Hermione exclaimed but then spoke more quietly, aware of the people sitting on others tables watching them. "I mean, not Harry being gay, that would be fine, but him not telling us about it? Not dating anybody else? Why?"

"It signified the end of his marriage, to the girl _everybody_ thought he would spend the rest of his life with." Blaise answered – he had read all the articles in the newspaper at the time, first talking in rose-tinted tones of their dream wedding plans, then in mournful words of woe at their untimely parting. No wonder Potter was ashamed – the whole wizarding world knew what he was up to. How was he to know how everybody would react if he came out of the proverbial broom closet?

"And all the papers would be talking about it..." Hermione reflected his thoughts. "I guess that's understandable – he could have told me or Ron though, at least!"

"Perhaps he just finds it a very difficult topic – I've always thought of him as a bit of a prude, to be honest, but mostly because he never dates." Blaise observed and Hermione raised an eyebrow at her unlikely conversation partner.

"You really do keep an eye on everybody, don't you?" She asked and Blaise smiled.

"I happen to be a very observant person, a star quality of a Slytherin. In fact, it is I quality that you yourself have, Miss Granger."

"It's Hermione-"

"I wonder why you were not sorted into Slytherin." Blaise carried on talking and Hermione smirked at him, which struck him as very un-Granger-like.

"With all your audacity of starting this conversation, I wonder why you weren't sorted into Gryffindor." She replied and Blaise laughed, a melodic, sonorous sound.

"It was a conversation worth having. It may not be our last." With that, he got up and left. Hermione shook her head, bemused, and then remembered her lunch that had five minutes to be eaten...

* * *

A/N: I know, I know, there was a lotta Blaise last chapter, but you can never have too much Blaise in my opinion :) and I could not resist having the Hermione-Blaise conversation about Draco and Harry - I just know they'd work it out.

And I loved writing the Ron & Harry bit because I love me some Ron :D and if your best friend's not going to sort you out, who will?

p.s. thanks to zeratera (I'll do something about Seamus, don't worry... heh heh...) ForeverJynxed, Tarkemelhion, black sniperX and Ibina Malfoy for the latest reviews!


	12. Club Cauldron, Home of Near Confessions

**Chapter 12 – Club Cauldron, Home of Near Confessions**

Draco stared at the wall in front of him, white, unassuming and all knowing. He let his vision get swallowed by the whiteness, wanting it to pull him in and hide him. He wanted to get away, glide through the wall like a ghost, see the colour of the world outside of it, but it felt impossible. He wanted to-

"Draco?" A voice whined at him, forcing him to snap out of his fevered half-thoughts.

"What?" He whispered, not bothering to summon his voice.

"Let's go clubbing tonight." Seamus shook his shoulder and Draco looked at him whilst managing not to let out the withering sigh that was clogging his throat. He did not want to go clubbing, but recently whatever Seamus wanted was simply life's laws, for reasons Draco didn't want to remind himself of... he decided to think about Harry's eyes whilst answering.

"That sounds like a great idea." He said quite convincingly and Seamus beamed at him, but not in any way that reassured him. His smile was predatory, his eyes gleaming opportunely.

"Fantastic, now I can show you off to all the other guys..." Seamus leered at him suggestively and Draco felt nauseous. Swallowing the sick feeling, he managed a smile.

"What should I wear?" He asked, anything to distract Seamus from noticing him, which never seemed to quite work.

"Oh, I've got something..." Seamus eyed him once more, before moving over to his wardrobe. He produced a very tight white shirt with a pair of what seemed to be black leather trousers behind it. Draco tried not to reel; he would never dream of wearing anything so tight and provocative out of choice, but it was definitely what Seamus would want to see him in.

He took the clothes, trying to hide his disdain, and moved to the door, to the bathroom, to change. Seamus stopped him with a strong grip on his shoulder.

"I'd prefer it if you changed in here." Draco needed no time to work out what he meant; Seamus wanted to watch him change. Letting an image of Harry's face, leaning into kiss him, he slowly took off his current shirt and smart trousers (he hadn't bothered to get changed from work. That would make it seem like he was trying to get comfortable in Seamus' territory.) He then put on the other clothing as quickly as he could, which was tough given their uncomfortable tightness.

Seamus looked him over approvingly, moving over to where Draco was standing in the new outfit. He then kissed him and Draco simply stood there and let it happen, no matter how disgusted and angry he felt inside. He would have to get away from this soon; he was at breaking point as it was. He was even beginning to think that Harry knowing his shame would be better than living this lie...

Harry had tried to kiss him after all, unless he was completely deranged and simply imagining it. He had wanted to kiss him back, desperately so, but knew that if anything happened between them and Seamus found out then Harry would know everything, from his use of the Polyjuice Potion to how Draco would cry out his name. Draco had too much pride for that to get out, his pride being the only thing at all that had stopped him from kissing Harry back and melting into his arms like he had always, always wanted.

Still, the near-kiss did give him much more hope... perhaps Harry really did feel the same way?

Seamus dragged Draco out of these happy thoughts by prodding him on the arm.

"We're going now!" He said, dressed in a similar get-up to Draco, but his shirt was less tight and a dark red colour. He grabbed Draco by the arm and then they were Apparating.

They arrived outside of a club simply called _Cauldron, _a sign by the black, windowless door flashing it in ever-changing coloured lights. Seamus pulled Draco with him, his grip unrelenting, to the door and, whispering a word that Draco didn't quite catch, commanded it to open.

The cold London air outside was lost when Draco was hauled into the club, replaced by heat and thrumming music that assaulted his every sense. He could smell many things, people, smoke and what suspiciously smelt like different sorts of drugs, though Draco was no expert in this area.

After walking down a short corridor, the walls padded with black leather and all the similarly windowless doors they passed shocking pink in colour. The club itself was full of people, dancers on the main floor, drinkers by the glowing neon-bright bar and others sitting in dark booths to one side of the room, their faces just out of view of the bright, disorientating lights.

Seamus immediately guided Draco to the dance floor, people staring as soon as they had arrived, and began grinding with him. Fighting the urge to shove him away, Draco simply closed his eyes and imagined Harry there with him, dancing with him. Seamus mistook Draco's smile to be for him and then danced with even more enthusiasm.

Draco was certainly attracting a lot of attention, with his revealing clothing and beautiful, almost ethereal looks, and Seamus fought off all other interested parties, mostly male and sometimes female, with deathly glares. Draco was _his._

A far too lengthy time later Seamus went to fetch drinks for them, leaving Draco with a covetous kiss. Draco sighed in relief and went over to the darkened booths, painfully aware of all the eyes watching him as he walked. All of the booths were full, so he chose one that only had three people on the other side to his. He only recognized who they were once somebody addressed him.

"Draco?" He heard Hermione's voice and could not help but feel a surge of relief followed by a similar one of embarrassment; had she seen him dancing with Seamus in those embarrassing clothes?

"Hermione." He smiled at her, recognizing her face as his strobe-light-attacked vision began to focus in the darkness. "So you like to go here too?" He became speechless on recognizing the two other people with her; of course, the Golden Trio would have to be there to watch one of the most mortifying moments of his life. Ron was simply looking at him curiously, which unnerved him more than Weasley's anger or disgust ever could, and Harry's expression was painfully unreadable. Since when had he become so adept at hiding his emotions?

"Oh yes," Hermione answered, trying to ignore the sudden change in atmosphere from friendly to... well, awkward, "We used to come here a lot a couple of years ago, so thought to make a reunion with the place. Have you ever been here before?"

"No," Draco admitted, "in fact, I've never even heard of the place before."

"It is quite a secretive place," Ron piped up, "I only heard about it from Bill, he used to come here with Fleur sometimes. You even have to know the password to get in."

"Password?" Draco questioned.

"It's Polyjuice." Harry broke his silence, merely his voice sending shivers down Draco's spine, and also the irony of his words hitting Draco with terrible force. Even Harry muttering the word made him want to reel with guilt. Harry's lengthy stare did not help things, his green eyes having not left Draco since he had first sat down.

"I see." Draco answered, not knowing what else to say. He dared to look up at Harry and, upon momentarily drowning in his eyes, looked down again. What must Harry think of him? Was he regretting that kiss? Was he disappointed? Was he angry? Was he simply annoyed because Draco had not fallen for a kiss meant as a joke? Would he ever want to kiss Draco again?

"So who are you here with?" Ron asked, although he already knew the answer from the way he had said it.

"Seamus." Draco grimaced before he could stop it. This caused Ron to lean forward, even more curious before. He looked like he knew things and it caused Draco great discomfort. Did the redhead understand more than he usually let on? Harry had leant back, his face completely shrouded in darkness again, and Hermione didn't move at all, keenly purveying the interaction in a knowing way of her own.

"So are you really together now?" Hermione asked, trying to keep the disapproval out of her voice. Why was Draco staying with Seamus when he wanted Harry?

"Yes." Draco forced out the word, not matter how much his inner-voice screamed at him that in fact it was the complete opposite, he didn't want to be with Seamus at all, he wanted Harry, Harry, Harry-

"Draco? There you are!" Seamus set two drinks, both an odd purple colour and fizzing, on the table and then crashed down next to him, slipping an arm around his waist. Draco shifted away despite himself, but Seamus only pulled him closer. The arm stiffened uncomfortably when he saw who was sitting opposite him.

"Potter." He said, his disdain clear, and then he nodded to the others. "Ron, Hermione."

"Hello Seamus." Replied Ron, sounding just as disdainful himself, which made Seamus look confused for a few moments before turning to Draco again.

"Should we go dance again?" Seamus asked, tugging at Draco's arm again as if no could not be an answer. Draco battled with himself; he really didn't want to, but then Seamus may threaten to blurt out Draco's shameful secret...

"But Draco, you haven't even finished your drink! And we should really catch up – it's been a while!" Ron burst out and Draco goggled at him for a few seconds before having the sense to nod. Weasley was saving him from having to go with Seamus, as strange as it seemed.

"True." He said with relief and took a sip of said drink. It burnt his throat, alcohol-filled and agonizingly fizzy, and he was pained to drink more, but it was still an excuse. It must have been strong – he could feel himself getting tipsy already...

"In fact," Hermione chipped in, "I feel like dancing! Let's go, Seamus!" With that, and a knowing stare in Ron's direction, who coloured visibly under it, she grabbed Seamus by the arm before he could protest and took him away. Even Seamus wasn't foolish enough to struggle against that iron grip; he would just have to be away for one song...

Nobody else happened to notice the thumbs up Hermione directed at another of the dark booths. Blaise's replying smile could not be seen to anybody, but Hermione sensed that he was there.

"And I'll get more drinks for me and you, mate" Ron clapped Harry on the back and too disappeared, leaving Harry and Draco staring after him and then both glancing at each other.

"Draco." Harry acknowledged him. "It's been a while."

"Indeed it has." Draco replied, trying to ignore how shaky his voice sounded. Harry stood up and walked around the side of the table, sitting himself again beside Draco, so close that their arms were practically touching. Draco could see him fully now, everything from the never-fading scar on his forehead and the flecks of pale green dancing in his eyes to his slight smile. He tried to blame the feeling that he was experiencing from this view from being intoxicated on the alcohol.

"Draco..." Harry repeated more softly, the way his lips shaped the word making Draco want to kiss them, "About the other day, in the corridor..." he trailed off, at a loss and biting his lip. Draco knew exactly what he was talking about, their near-kiss, but was unwilling to talk about it. He knew that he could not confess how he truthfully felt, but then again he did not want to lie. He felt cornered, but in a way he felt glad to be finally trapped. At least this time Seamus wasn't trapping him, as he always seemed to be these days; at last he was ensnared because of Harry.

"Why did you run off like that?" Harry sounded genuinely hurt, letting the emotion flicker across his face, and Draco could at least rule out the possibility of it being a prank.

There were so many things he could have said, but he settled for "You just wouldn't understand."

"Perhaps if you talked to me about it then I would." Harry supplied, causing Draco to smirk. Some things just weren't that simple.

"I wish I could... but I don't want you to think less of me." Draco decided that admitting a half-truth was better than nothing at all.

"I would find it very hard to think less of you." Harry whispered, just audible, and this time really did reach his hand forward and touch Draco's cheek with feather-light fingertips. "I've been thinking about you constantly lately."

Draco's heart fluttered, but his brain smirked. "That's not what I meant." The words were still touching in their own way.

"I just want to understand a few things... if you will answer my questions?" Harry asked tentatively, moving his fingers to Draco's jaw, Draco closing his eyes in pleasure at the movement against his skin.

He nodded. "But depending on the questions."

"Okay," Harry smiled, "firstly, would you ever want to kiss me again?"

Draco kept his eyes closed; it was easier to answer without seeing Harry's breathtaking face. "Yes."

"So something else is holding you back?"

"Yes."

"Does it involve Seamus?"

"Yes."

"Is it because you're in love with Seamus?"

"Definitely not." The utter conviction in Draco's voice made Harry impulsively want to laugh, but he held it back. His pounding heart and looking at Draco's face, his fingers mapping it out, was enough to concentrate on as he asked the last question.

"And... and how do you feel about... me?" Harry asked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt. Did Draco really feel as Ron had suspected?

"Harry, I," His opportunity was there; it was so easy, why couldn't he say the words? He knew that it was out of fear; from what Seamus would do, a genuine worry, to the silly things like if Harry was really joking or something, that none of this was real.

But he wasn't joking; he could see it in his eyes. And he was being given an opportunity here – why not use it? This was far more important to him than Seamus, just as Harry was.

"Harry," he tried again, "I'm in l-"

"Draco!" He heard someone bellow and suddenly Harry was taken away from him, held back by none other by Seamus. Then Harry was thrown unceremoniously aside as Seamus made a grab for Draco. Draco dodged it, understanding his intention of Apparating them away, but then he was trapped in the booth. Seamus managed to grab him the second time and soon he was being taken away against his own will.

The last thing he saw was Harry reaching out for him, desperation in his emerald eyes, but he had no time to reach back...

Arriving at Seamus' apartment, Draco closed his eyes and tried to make it all a dream. Seamus would not make it so, his arms clamped down on Draco's arms, restraining them from reaching for his wand, and whispering forcefully into his ear.

"Let's get married Draco, let's be together forever..." the words held no love to them, simply cruel, covetous lust. Seamus had never loved Draco, he was just infatuated. He wanted to marry Draco (gay marriage being acceptable in the wizarding world) just so Draco would be further tied to him. He did not act on love at all and this was the final straw for Draco.

"No, I will not marry you. You know why?" He was shouting, weeks of pent up anger being hurled towards the one who had caused it all. "I don't love you! And you don't love me!"

"How can you say that?" Seamus asked, his voice not hurt but just as angry as Draco's, venomous even. "I love you more than anything, more than anyone, more than... more than..."

"More than Harry?" Draco said through gritted teeth. "I don't think so..."

Seamus slapped him full across the face, Draco reeling from the sudden violence, of which Seamus had never used before on him. Before his touching had all been due to desire, not wishing to shock and hurt. Draco turned to him in disbelief, just before reaching into his robes for his wand.

"I'm leaving... I will not take this any-" his sentence was cut off when Seamus bellowed, his wand pointed at Draco's.

"_Expelliarmus!_" Draco's wand flew out of his hand and was deftly caught in Seamus'. With a quick mutter of "_Colloportus_" The door to the hallway was locked and with an equally quick "_Incarcerous_" Draco found him wrists and ankles bound by silver ropes. Seamus let him fall to the floor this time, landing with an ungraceful thump, before lifting him up by the shirt. Draco could barely breathe.

"You will be with me, Draco. There's no other way." Seamus whispered, using his free hand to trace a line along Draco's jaw, in an almost caring manner that didn't fool Draco at all.

"There is another way. My friends will come for me." Draco struggled to say, his throat constricted by the front of his shirt. "Theo, Blaise, Hermione, Ron, Harry..."

Seamus let out a humourless laugh.

"So do you regularly have sex with people disguised as your friends, or is that just with Harry?" He mocked, his mouth twisted into a cruel smile. His threat had been made ineffectual by overuse; Seamus could say what he liked, there was no way that he could blackmail Draco into marrying him.

"You don't scare me, Seamus Finnegan," he hissed, his breath struggling, "You know why? I know that Harry cares about me."

"Enough that he could overlook what I'd tell him if you backed out of our little arrangement?" Seamus' eyes glinted dangerously, but Draco would not back down this time.

"Yes, yes I do." He said, though he wasn't sure of the answer himself, and Seamus slapped him again, letting him crash to the ground.

"That was a bad move, my love." Seamus was leaning down next to him, purring into his ear. Draco heard him conjure something from his wand and then he was being gagged with a thick red silk ribbon. Draco looked into Seamus' eyes whilst he was being gagged; they were burning with anger and madness.

"I will punish you for that." He hissed. "I will make you scream for trying to leave me..." He pulled down Draco's trousers, then his boxers, and, without any forewarning or even lubrication, he pushed deeply into Draco.

Draco let out a muffled scream into his gag; the pain was excruciating. Seamus ignored his cries, perhaps was spurred on by them, and the pain got steadily worse.

"I will make you scream..." Seamus repeated, his voice a hiss of vindictive concentration.

Within minutes Draco had passed out...

* * *

D: Oh noes! I really do love my angst, don't I?

Thanks to jadestonedreams, Sapphire Onyx (I'll try not to make it a blob of depression! XD Though with this chapter... hmm...), Idina Malfoy, xAkireix (I'm glad you like my take on Nott!), Forever Jynxed (I'm glad you're overjoyed! That makes me overjoyed!) and zeratera (the love is much appreciated!) for the latest reviews! x


	13. Stun and Rescue

**Chapter 13 – Stun and Rescue**

The first thing Harry did was reluctantly pull his arm back to his side, because the person he was reaching for had evaded his very fingertips before being taken away from him. Then he began planning.

"Harry," Hermione was rushing over to him, "where are Draco and Seamus? Where have they gone?"

"Seamus Apparated Draco away..." Harry said, not looking at her, deep in thought. How was he going to find out where Draco was? He didn't know where Draco or Seamus lived, not that he thought they would definitely be in either of those places, and he didn't know Seamus well enough to think where else he would want to go...

"Oh god," He heard her but it sounded distant and quiet, "he forcibly Apparated him away? That's kidnap! We have to find Draco!"

"I know that!" Harry exclaimed and Hermione pursed her lips. She knew she'd be annoyed too, if somebody had taken away someone she had desperately wanted to talk to. Still, it was irritating when he began shouting like that.

Ron came over with drinks and then asked similar questions to those Hermione had first asked, receiving similar, yet this time even more exasperated answers from Harry.

"So where are we going to look first?" Ron asked, not hesitating to ask if they were going to search or not. Harry couldn't be thinking of anything but going after Draco, if the deeply worried and concentrated expression on his face was anything to go by.

"We're going to find Dean Thomas." Harry said suddenly and Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Of course, we should try Seamus' flat first and Dean will know its location." She explained to a confused looking Ron, who then also nodded.

"Right, where to then? Dean's flat?" He questioned and Harry nodded once before starting to walk out of the crowded club. As soon as he got outside he Apparated, as it was only polite not to Apparate inside of the club (a general rule of courtesy that Seamus had chosen to ignore in his haste.)

Ron and Hermione were only seconds behind him, holding hands before Apparating together. Hermione only remembered Blaise, watching over them, as she was Apparating, and felt guilty. But they really had no time to lose...

They arrived moments later on a quiet, dark street. The only other living, breathing things there were two cats circling a dustbin for prospective scraps and a young Muggle man drawing his curtains, not paying the three magically appearing people any attention at all, such was the nature of his unawareness to magic. Harry knew it was late, but their visit to Dean was an urgent one. Harry just hoped that Dean would give them the information they needed; he was Seamus' best friend, so perhaps Seamus would have told him not to tell Harry anything. He still hoped, though, because it was the only thing he had left.

Ron was first at the door to Dean's building, having Apparated the nearest to it, and used the Muggle intercom to contact Dean's room (even Ron had mastered this contraption, made easier once he had first learnt finally how to use "fellytones".)

"Who is it?" Dean sounded cheerful and not just slightly tipsy.

"It's Ron, mate, with Hermione and Harry. Can we ask you something?" Ron spoke clearly into the little white box, staring at it as if he could look up it to where Dean was (some Muggle concepts had never quite sunk in for him, even if he could use them.)

"Okay, it's better that you don't come up." Dean said, not sounding wary but quite amused, as if there was a delectable secret hidden in his flat that he didn't want them to discover.

"Okay then... why's that?" Ron asked, curious, but then cleared his throat when Harry gave him an impatient glare. They were on an urgent mission.

"Oh, my little secret..." Dean said slyly and they could hear another man's cheerful laughter in the background. Delectable secret indeed.

Hermione could not take too much more of the small talk, so stepped up beside Ron to speak.

"Dean, it's Hermione. I'll be frank: can you give us Seamus' new address? We really need to go there."

Now Dean did seem more wary and Harry's heart sank at his words. "I'm not sure... he told me not to give it out to anyone. Seamus has always been a private person."

"But this is important!" Hermione stressed, biting her lip; if they didn't get the information what would they do? Draco needed their help: he needed his friends.

"How so?" Dean asked, sounding more and more suspicious.

Now Harry stepped up to the intercom.

"Here's how it is: Seamus has kidnapped Draco and we suspect that they may be at Seamus' apartment. We need to know where it is so we can find Draco."

"Goodness," Dean exclaimed, "Seamus kidnapped him? Are you sure you're not overreacting? I mean, he has been acting strangely lately, but I thought they were together..."

"It's a sham, their relationship," Ron argued, "a complete sham. We all know that Draco isn't happy with Seamus because he wants to be with Harry." Harry shook his head worriedly at these words: what if he didn't want everyone to know?!

"I see," Dean's voice was unreadable at first and Harry held his breath, "well, does Harry want Draco in the same way?"

"Yes." Hermione breathed and Harry raised his eyebrows at her. She merely smiled at him. "It's true."

"Okay then, I can't stand in the way of that." Dean concluded. "I just hope you can get some sense into Seamus. He really hasn't been himself lately, I am worried about him." Then he told them Seamus' address.

A second later the only people on the otherwise empty street had disappeared as quickly as they had arrived.

"Hello...?" Dean said into the intercom and then the other man's voice could be heard again. "They must have gone... let's go back to bed..."

The trio arrived outside another street, this one just as dark as the last one but this time populated by three women tottering along the street, singing in drunk shouts as they made their way past. Ron, Hermione and Harry paid no attention to them as they ran up to Seamus' building.

"So he's on the third floor?" Hermione asked and Harry nodded. Ron tilted his head towards the intercom.

"Well, I think there's no point using this. It's not like he's going to talk to us. Shall we force our way in?" He asked, fishing in his robes for his wand.

"I guess so..." Hermione had her wand out quicker and muttered something. The door to the corridor immediately opened. Ron's expression was sour as he walked in with the other two.

"I'm engaged to a bloody genius... doesn't do any wonders for my confidence..." he mumbled as they hurriedly climbed three floors of stairs.

"Oh, Ron, stop grumbling, we have bigger matters than your ego at hand." Hermione admonished, but she looked amused as they continued to run. Harry was far ahead of them, his will to reach Draco surpassing that of his other friends'. His natural stamina and graceful gait whilst running also helped matters immensely.

Therefore, he was first to reach flat 15, where Draco was possibly held captive. Trying to refrain from completely reducing the thing to ashes, he first knocked on the door loudly. No reply came, so he knocked again, banging his fist on the dark wood.

He heard no reply, no voice, but did hear the slight quiet shuffling of feet on carpet. That was enough.

"I know you're there, Seamus, open the door!" He bellowed with as much force as he could muster, thinking the whole time of Draco. No reply came so he began to bang continuously on the door until Hermione restrained his arm.

"We don't want to hurt you, Seamus," she reasoned loudly, "we just want to talk about this."

"Seriously?" Ron whispered in her ear, just loud enough that Harry could hear. "We can't hurt him? But he's such a git!" Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but her shoulders were shaking slightly with laughter.

Four words silenced them all.

"You can't have him!" Seamus screamed with rage, so forcefully that the door vibrated against Harry's then still hands.

"Seamus." Harry called back calmly. "Please let us in peacefully. We're worried about Draco."

"No!" Seamus hissed, his voice coming from the crack in the door and causing Harry to involuntarily take a step back. It reminded him sharply of Voldemort's voice, driven to being inhuman by madness and inconceivable wrath.

"There's no other way." Hermione breathed, painfully aware of how close Draco's captor and their former-friend was to them. "We have to break in, for Draco's sake."

"I agree." Ron whispered, keeping his voice as low as possible, though his fists were shaking slightly as he glared at the door, the object of his ill-intent so close to him now.

Hermione did not even mutter this time to forewarn of the mysterious, complicated spell that covered the door, a purple and silver swirling mist, until it completely disintegrated. Seamus stood before them, his wand poised. He pointed it to Harry's chest.

"You can't have him! Cruc-"

"Expelliarmus!" Ron shouted before Seamus could cast his curse and Seamus' wand flew into his hand. Seamus made an impulsive grab forward, his arm seemingly following his wand, but then Harry had grabbed him and was glaring into his face.

"Where is Draco?" He asked through gritted teeth, looking as if he would punch the other man if his answer were not satisfactory.

"The bedroom." Seamus breathed, knowing that he was beaten. This knowledge was enforced when a satisfied looking Ron stupefied him, thoughts of defeat fleeting before he passed out. Harry jumped over his body slumped in the doorframe, followed by Hermione.

"I'll keep an eye on the prat here." Ron supplied before giving Seamus a well-deserved kick.

Harry immediately ran to a random door and opened it, Hermione opting for a different one. Harry had hit the target though, finding Draco gagged and bound, not to mention naked, on a very ruffled looking bed. He closed the door before Hermione could see what he had seen. It would only distress her.

"I can sort this out." He called, stopping Hermione from entering.

"Okay, but give me a shout if you need any help..." She answered. He could imagine her hesitating, hand reaching towards the handle, but then he heard her walk away, assuming that she had gone to assist Ron in watching Seamus.

These thoughts, though, were scattered and irrelevant as he instead focused on Draco. He walked slowly towards him as if in a nightmare. He could see that Draco had been assaulted and possibly raped. Everywhere he was covered in scratches and bruises, one slash to his side still dripping blood. Harry did not even want to comprehend the damage Draco had suffered internally all this time because of Seamus.

How could he have been so blind? To his own feelings, to how Draco felt, to everything that Seamus had done. Why hadn't he saved Draco before it had gotten this far?

"I'm here now, Draco, and I'm so, so sorry..." He whispered, leaning over the bed to stroke one side of Draco's pale, unconscious face. "We'll take you to St. Mungo's..."

He was stopped after these words, however, as a body binder jinx hit him square in the back. He felt like screaming out, he had been so close to the man on the bed that meant so much, but then he was metres and miles away again. He hit the ground with a remorseful thump.

"You're not taking my Draco anywhere, Potter." Seamus' figure, statuesque in fury, loomed over his vulnerable, frozen body...

* * *

A/N: I know, it's short, and has a cliffhanger D: I'm sorry! That's just the way it's turning out at the moment... but everything shall be sorted in a chapter or two!

Much love to Idina Malfoy (I'm sorry for the amount of angsty depressing stuff - please don't cry! It gets better!) xAkireix (There's nothing wrong with sounding like our beloved Won-Won :D) Beka0502, Sapphire Onyx (Yeah, I have a huge habit of using cliff hangers... bad self! XD) black sniperX, Kate518, jadestonedreams and Forever Jynxed (Your comments always make me squeee!) you commenters make this worth writing :D not to mention all the people subscribing and favouriting! xo


	14. Draco's Revenge

**Chapter 14 – Draco's Revenge**

_Oh fuck... fucking Merlin..._

Draco could hardly think past the pain, torturous pain, searing through his whole being. But he searched deeper, past his anguish, and tried to hold on to lucid consciousness. It would be easy to give into sleep, even death if it stopped the pain, but there was some reason, one he could not quite grasp as it slipped through his fingers, the most valuable silk.

Draco tried to see through the blurred slits of his strained vision. Giving up on that, he instead used his hearing and tried to register the two voices, two jarring melodies that were filling the otherwise silent song of the room.

"Please, Seamus... it doesn't have to be like this..." His jolting heart, the only fully awake part of him, registered Harry's quiet tones.

"I will kill you! You deserve no less!" Seamus' forte answered and Draco opened his weary eyes so that they laid sight on him without returned acknowledgement, the maddened man too focussed on Harry, who was lying defenceless and weakened on the floor.

So Harry had found him and... had tried to save him? Part of Draco groaned internally: so he again owed Harry, who always seemed to be saving him! Another part was ridiculously happy, given the situation. Again, given the situation, most of him was still terrified. What was he going to do to help, an injured, weak, wandless, not to mention naked, weakling collapsed onto the bed? How was he supposed to help Harry now, the man who had again risked everything just for him?

"You're not a killer, Seamus..." Harry replied, his voice barely a whisper above Draco's internal struggle of ear splitting thought, and Seamus kicked him, hard, in the stomach, if Harry's small cry of pain was anything to go by. Draco could almost feel it reflected on his own self, the thud of contact and resounding groan were both so unbearably loud.

"Shut up!" Seamus growled dangerously in reply, the look in his eyes feral and unreasonable. "I'll kill you now! Just you wait... Draco will be mine..." He also lost intensity and volume as he glanced to his wand, a potentially deadly extension of his hand. The hazardous light in his eyes dimmed in hesitance.

Just two words and a movement... just two words... and a movement... and he could kill. But could he?

Draco did not want to take the risk. He had already felt the full force of Seamus' moments of insanity, which had grown more frequent and intense over the course of their sordid relationship, and he feared for Harry. He would have given anything to be in Harry's place, at the end of a vengeful wand, and for Harry to be safe. This was not the way it was meant to be...

Looking desperately around him, his eyes fell upon a beacon of hope: namely his very own wand, resting on a side table an arm's length away. If he could just quietly and slowly reach out... he slithered his hand, bruised and complaining, along the bed covers, willing himself not just to grab it and thus draw attention to himself, and extended his arm slightly so that he could reach the bedside table...

Seamus was still staring at his wand, Harry staring up at him pleadingly. Seamus reminded himself of his hatred, his jealousy, his rage. Harry had Draco's love, Harry had a glamorous job, Harry had the world's respect, Harry had so many close friends when nowadays nobody had time for Seamus himself... so it was no crime to take one of those things away from the lucky bastard, was it? Harry deserved death, Seamus told himself, and Seamus deserved to end it for him. He raised his wand, ignoring his shaking hand, and opened his mouth. Closed it, opened it again.

"Oh Draco..." Harry whispered, mostly to himself, and shut his eyes, gritting his teeth in morbid anticipation. So many times had he been at this point, awaiting death, the place almost felt like an old haunt of his. There had been Voldemort, so many times, close shaves during his working years, and now this... he would die at the hands of someone he had trusted as a friend for so, so many years. It hurt much more than dying at the hands of an enemy ever could, especially if that meant he could not help the one he loved, the love he had only just found after years of feeling so alone...

Managing to secure the end of the wand with his fingers, Draco brought it back to him. Then there was no more time to lose.

"_Expelliarmus_!" He shouted the spell, the first to come into his head in his haste, and it was so strong that not only Seamus' but also Harry's own wand, having lain dormant on the floor beforehand, flew up into his grasp. Seamus' head snapped around into his direction, confusion and betrayal in his eyes. Draco thought nothing of this as he stupefied the man that had brought so much sorrow into his life.

After this rush of movement he felt the wracks of agony that worked their way up his torso, forgotten in the previous rush of adrenaline, and his eyes were tearing up and hands dropping the two wands onto the floor. After a groan, he flicked his own wand towards Harry, undoing the strong body bind jinx that had been holding him captive. Then he collapsed onto the bed, having no idea what the hell to do with himself through the unbearable pain that was everywhere.

Harry immediately jumped up, relieved beyond words, and rushed over to Draco's side. Distantly, he could hear Ron and Hermione rushing into the room, but their words hovered over him like an intangible gas, whispering into nothingness. He knew they were fine and that was all he needed to know right now.

"Harry..." Draco groaned, "Take me to St. Mungo's already." His words were chocked but insistent. He was clutching his sides, in his head asking over and over to be okay again.

"Draco..." Harry replied sadly, gently turned Draco's face to his, causing the other man to open his eyes. He watched as Harry leaned over him and kissed him softly, trailing his fingers down one side of his face. The kiss was feather-light, barely pressed and almost incorporeal. Yet it was everything.

Then Harry took him away to safety.

* * *

By the passing of an hour Ron had moulded himself into the plain white hospital bench, the material lining having indented to his shape, the only solid comfort to him at that moment.

Harry and Hermione had gone in with Draco, wanting to be by his side, but Ron had his own reservations. He could have been called a acquaintance to Draco at best, so felt that it was not his place, even sitting at the back of the room trying not to exist too obviously, being in Draco's ward.

He was not worrying; he knew, after a few injuries procured to his own body, that the healers at St. Mungo's really did know what they were doing, so Draco would be up and ready in no time. He was not worried about Seamus Finnegan either – being an Auror, he had had every authority to take the bastard into temporary custody, where he would await his trial for forcible apparition, abuse, attempting an unforgivable and rape. He worked it out... that would be at least three years in Azkaban, exactly what he deserved. It may even knock some sense into him, seeming as nowadays there weren't Dementors at the prison to send the captives more insane than they were on admission. Seamus had grown quite insane enough, Ron mused, and he guessed that at its base the insanity had grown from post-war mental problems (Hermione had taken ages explaining this to him – mostly because of the way Harry had grown so depressed after the Final Battle) and the immense stress from work.

He did feel rather resentful though, but only towards himself. He had been undeniably shaken up by the encounter with Seamus, he had never seen the man in such a state, but that was still no excuse. He had been so confident with the defeat that he had not followed standard Auror procedures and had once or twice taken his eye off the unconscious git. Then he had gone and bloody well gotten himself stupefied! And Hermione, who had trusted him to watch their charge, hadn't been quick enough to stop Seamus either! So technically he had endangered Harry and Draco out of his own stupidity. Well, with Harry, it wasn't such a problem; on missions they had both messed up before, so Harry would forgive him (he hoped.) But with Draco... well, that was a whole new score to settle.

His eyes shot towards the door of Draco's ward as it creaked open. Hermione appeared, a small smile on her face and her hand soon held out, an offer to him. He took the offer, standing and embracing her. She looked upset, to say the least, but he could tell that she just regretted not keeping a more thorough watch on Seamus, just as he did.

"Is he alright?" Ron mumbled into her hair and she hummed in positive assent.

"They've healed everything, well, on his body. He's still a bit traumatized, though he won't admit it." She chuckled. "That's just like Draco – he's been in a sham relationship with a madman for months, he's been abused, raped... and he's denying feeling any fear over it. I can see through it though, he's afraid."

"That's just always been his way, I suppose." Ron answered, surprised by the mildness of his answer, seeming as it concerned the person he had so passionately hated at school. Well, Harry had hated Draco too, but Ron could see that it was a whole new sort of passion he held for the man now, so perhaps Ron could try to forgive and forget too, though he was certain he'd never love the guy. He was not that way inclined, after all.

"Why are you laughing?" Hermione looked up at him, her head to one side.

"Just some stupid thoughts." He replied and kissed her on the forehead. Said forehead shook slowly in amusement as she smiled back at him.

"Harry's still with Draco, who's awake now. I think we should leave. You know, give them some privacy." She indicated the lift next to them and Ron complied, walking her over to it, his hand resting on the small of her back.

"Yeah, it's about time for those two." He agreed, with little chagrin to not be returning to his seat, and with this they made their way out.

* * *

With a flutter of eyelids and a small, sleepy noise of comfort and rejuvenation, Draco Malfoy awoke to see a hospital ward. There were no spaces in his mind as to what had brought him there; he remembered the whole scene as if a film was playing in his head. Seamus Apparating him away from Harry... being tied up... passing out... waking up again to Harry's pleading voice... reaching for his wand... Harry kissing him... passing out again...

So here he was. And so was Harry, he registered a few moments later, looking completely unharmed and just as relieved as he felt.

"Draco..." he whispered, taking one of his pale hands into a tanned twin, his eyes constantly checking him over, roving over his body. Draco coloured slightly under the scrutiny, but he still enjoyed it anyway. Harry was looking after him, something extremely alien to him but also very reassuring. So he hadn't been subjecting himself to Seamus for nothing; there really had been something there with Harry, if Harry at least cared for him.

"Harry," he replied, "Are we allowed out yet? I hate hospitals." Harry laughed, whilst his fingers slowly traced their way up Draco's arm.

"I think the Healers want to check you over once more, but then we can leave." He replied, immensely amused by the look of child-like impatience that passed over Draco's face. He had never seen the other man so loose before, letting himself look impatient. Now, looking at Harry himself, the expression turned into one of... well, love, Harry thought to himself, for want of a less embarrassing word. The fact that Draco did seem to love him, Harry, was still very new and made him feel tentative and embarrassed. He had not experienced such strong emotions directed at him before.

"Why are you blushing?" Draco sounded amused himself now and Harry cursed his cheeks for betraying his feelings. For distraction, and simply because he wanted to, he leaned down and kissed Draco. This kiss, unlike the first, was long and quite fiery, though Harry had, at the start, been gentle because of Draco lying in a hospital bed and how very fragile he looked. But Draco felt no need to be gentle as he wrapped his arms around Harry's neck and pulled him closer, so much that Harry very nearly fell off his chair but then sat on the edge of the bed.

Only the vociferous cough of a Healer brought them up for air. Harry blushed even harder then (somebody had seen him kissing another man!) but Draco just looked jubilant and not just a bit triumphant (well, he was getting what he had waited years for...)

After one more check-up, Draco was finally allowed to leave. Whilst he changed into the normal clothes provided for him, not caring that Harry was there, Harry busied himself trying to explain exactly what happened to Seamus, how Ron and Hermione were fine and, well, after a while he was surprised he could even form coherent sentences. Draco was just that beautiful.

He did not dare touch him, though, because only hours earlier the very same body of his admirations had been violated, invaded and abused. He was not sure if Draco would be comfortable with being touched right now, though with the blonde man Harry had learned, out of experience, that these matters were quite unpredictable.

"Harry..." Draco was waving a hand over his face, so Harry snapped out of his panicked reverie. Harry noted how... vulnerable... he suddenly looked. "Can you... escort me home?"

"Oh, of course, fine, yes." Harry babbled – what exactly did that mean? – but Draco took his hand, squeezing it slightly, and started walking to the door.

"I just want somebody to stay with me tonight, that's all." He said and Harry sighed internally – of course, he just wanted some company.

"Of course I'll stay." Harry answered, putting an arm around Draco as they walked down the corridor, deciding not to care about the people who could see them (love was love, after all.)

Draco stopped walking just before they flooed back to his flat, turning to face Harry.

"I know that this may be far too soon, and I may be ruining whatever we have right now," he looked at the floor, but then looked up again resolutely, eye-to-eye with Harry, "but earlier... at Cauldron, what I never got to say was... that I'm in love with you."

For reasons beyond him, Harry did not feel afraid at all. He remembered every time Ginny had said that to him, making him feel edgy and wrong, but when Draco said the same words they felt natural; completely right. This time he could even answer.

"I love you too." He said, not breaking the intense eye contact, and nothing else had to be said as they flooed away together.

* * *

A/N: Attention! There will be an epilogue! And I don't like this ending very much D: it's really soppy (for me, anyway), but I have the block so badly that I can't think of anything better! XD

Arigatou to Idina Malfoy (is that happier? XD), Kate518, Beka0502 (I like the drama too! perhaps too much...) Sapphire Onyx (Get better soon! Sorry for the wait XD) Forever Jynxed (You're a wonderful reviewer!) zeratera (for two reviews!) Abril dark angel, funnyducky (Yay! Another Blaise fan! And I was actually planning to send Seamus to Azkaban from the start! hehe) xAkireix (sorry, with Seamus it's pretty much stress-related, so much unhappiness in life can drive people over the edge) personlikething (love your name! XD) and the-dark-pricess! :D You guys are all awesome!


	15. Epilogue The Passing of a Good Year

**Epilogue – The Passing of a Good Year**

Draco watched from his seat, a smile bestowing him on the inside as well as on his lips, as the happy procession of people walked up the aisle. Firstly came Hermione, glowing with joy and slight nerves, with her father at her side (who had only insisted on giving her away and nothing else, so Hermione, forever the modern independent woman, had relented to allow him.)

She looked positively radiant in her floor length white gown with its close fitting skirt and tasteful details – for neither was Hermione the type to wear large, meringue style nightmares that were all too often worn by brides. An image conjured in his mind of her wearing it a few weeks earlier, showing it off to a speechless Draco and a gushing Harry – yes, gushing, Draco recalled with amusement – and the warmth in the pit of his stomach grew and grew.

Then came the bridesmaids, Luna, Ginny and Hannah, Hermione's three closest female friends, all wearing pretty pale blue knee-length numbers. All five walked leisurely up the aisle to where the vicar, a jovial man with twinkling eyes oddly similar to Dumbledore's - as Harry had pointed out to him in a whisper during the rehearsal, Harry himself and an awestruck Ron stood waiting to receive them.

Draco could hear the quiet music of the 'Clair de Lune' floating through the air, the flawless accompaniment to such perfect moments. The warmth had now reached his every pore, flooding through him like happiness had rarely done before. He could recall few moments of the same feeling possessing him, but most of them were recent and most involved a certain Harry Potter.

The day after escaping from Seamus, waking up to Harry watching over him... Their first proper kiss... the first time they had experienced sex with each other, which none of the previous Polyjuice Harrys could ever have competed with... all the wonderful times when Draco had simply looked at his partner and realized that they were still together and still happy. All the time they had spent together over the last year, it had certainly healed them both.

The music slowly faded away when Hermione stood opposite her adoring fiancée. In a room full of people, it seemed that they could only see one another. Draco was surprised when both could recite the vows spoken to them, they seemed too distant from reality, lost in each other. He was familiar with the feeling. His eyes flickered over to Harry, who was watching his two best friends with an expression that reflected what Draco was feeling, one of utter bliss, but then he felt green eyes also briefly settling on him. After a briefly shared smile, a beautiful little secret hidden to all but them, they both looked back to the happy couple.

Sealed with a kiss, Hermione and Ron Granger-Weasley had officially tied the knot. Cheers rose up in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, specially decked out with wedding decor for the day, as everyone stood up. Many eyes were blurred over with tears.

* * *

Merely minutes later there was a mass Apparation to the Burrow, which had been chosen for the after party because it was a place that most of the congregation were warmly familiar with, even Draco who had been there a few times with Harry (and had even grown used to the sheer amount of bright red hair around there.) Even he felt a sense of homeliness when he walked through the door, intent on finding Harry. With a tap on the shoulder and an arm curling around his waist from behind, Draco was quite sure he had found him.

"Draco." Harry whispered, his voice never failing to raise goosebumps on the skin it caressed. "How beautiful was that?"

"I've never felt so... sentimental before." Draco admitted and Harry laughed.

"I'm afraid that weddings and sentimentality go hand in hand." He said, happening to take Draco's hand in his at the same time. Draco leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"You're making me soft, I swear."

Before Harry could answer back Mrs. Weasley had distracted them both with a deathly tight hug. She was still crying, tears rolling down her cheeks in a happy battalion.

"Oh, my dears, I've never cried so much in my life!" She exclaimed, letting them go from her emotional grip. "I would talk more, but – oh, the music, the food, the cake, everything must be sorted out!" With that she bustled off, letting neither of her recent embrace victims get a word in edgeways.

"She looks rushed off her feet..." Harry remarked, "but I've never seen her so happy before. Talking of which, shall we go find the happy couple?"

"Hmm..." Draco cast his eye across the already crowded room, eventually resting on the sight of a white dress, its owner standing next to a young man with shockingly red hair. They were already surrounded by various well-wishers. "I think they're a tad busy right now. Should we get a drink instead?"

"A superb idea. My throat has dried up from all the emotion in the air." Harry agreed as Draco rested a hand on his shoulder blade, sheathed in dark suit, and guided him to the drinks table almost spilling over with glasses and various beverages.

"I think champagne suits the occasion." Draco decided for them and poured two glasses of the pale, bubbly liquid. One he passed to Harry and they both took a draught. "May as well start getting hammered now, everybody will be doing it."

"I second that." Harry said, almost draining his glass. It did take rather a lot for the toughened Auror to get even tipsy, though most of the time he avoided drinking too much alcohol at all to keep up with his fitness. However, on such a special occasion... it seemed that many people were thinking along the same lines. A sizeable portion of the glasses had already disappeared, as if by an invisibility charm, from the table.

A few hours later and both men lay on the Weasley's rickety back porch, surrounded by the colours of the evening sky and the chirping of the evening's crickets, a slight breeze sending the grass in the garden back and forth in calming ripples. The party was still raging inside, an abundance of voices, music and laughter that the quiet garden served as a temporary refuge from.

Harry turned and looked at his companion, who looked like he could have been sleeping peacefully, his eyes covered by lids and long lashes, his chest rising and falling with languid breath. He reached out one hand, that had previously been tucked behind his ruffled black hair, still as unruly as ever even though for today he had tried to discipline it, and traced it lightly over one pale cheek, stopping when it reached Draco's delicate jaw line, subtlety shadowed in the very last of the evening light.

Draco responded by turning and resting a hand upon Harry's ribcage, his eyes flickering open to reveal their all-consuming mercurial depths. Only through rigorous training had Harry taught himself to carry on breathing when he could see them so closely to his own, but sometimes he was still caught off guard.

"You interrupted my nap." Draco said, a slight whine to his voice, which made Harry chuckle.

"It's only 10 o' clock and listen to all this noise!" He gestured to the house, music still blaring. "So stop napping, you old man."

Draco smiled mischievously. "Could an old man have skin so perfect? I could not help but feel you admiring it earlier." The shallow comment mixed oddly with the sheer depth of his eyes, which Harry was slowly finding himself lost in as seconds swam by.

"How could I not?" Harry asked, his voice barely a whisper yet louder to Draco than all the noise in the house, "So soft..." He leant inwards and kissed a line down the side of Draco's face, from his temple to the base of his neck. Draco's eyes flickered close in pure enjoyment, his only movement. Nobody else could ever make him feel like this.

Suddenly, from a mouth still close enough to his skin that it tickled slightly when the lips moved, Harry spoke.

"I think we should get married." He said quietly, raising his head so that their eyes locked together. Draco's brain jarred temporarily.

"Now?" He asked, his voice shaky with nerves and excitement, terror and delight.

"Well, not right now." Harry said, his voice teasing, but then serious again. "In a few years."

Draco's brain relaxed. A few years, that was not nearly as stressful. A wedding needed a lot of planning, something which Draco loved to do down to the last detail.

"I think that's a wonderful idea."

"Fantastic! What do you think about a summer wedding?" There was vain hope in Harry's eyes; he could already guess the answer.

"Summer? But it's far too hot! Autumn would be much better..."

So the serious moment passed, but the shared feeling of delight still remained. It had been a good year, since meeting one another again. Draco hoped there would be more years to come, to spend with one another...

* * *

A/N: Sooo... I finally uploaded the epilogue I mentioned in the last chapter :3 again, it's cheesy, but I find that with endings I either go angsty or corny - and who wants more angst in this story, really?! I did enjoy writing this, as non-serious as I intended it to be...

Just another thanks to all my fantastic reviewers - you really made this worth writing! Expect more from me coming soon! :)

- purplerawr


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